Shadows of the Past
by Bloodthirsty Omega
Summary: Set after book four (Inheritance). A shadow is growing in Alagaësia. Lead Rider Eragon must return to his homeland as new enemies rise and old ones return. Rating M for Violence, Gore, Lemons. Review guys, review!
1. Chapter 1

The night was old when Eragon finally retired to bed. He had spent a long time with some of the younger riders, trying to resolve a simple quarrel between two of them between a human and a dwarf; started by the human.

_You know_, he said to his sapphire dragonnes, Saphira, as he undressed back in his bed chamber in Vroengard Castle, _I think I am beginning to understand why the elves are annoyed by my kind. I'm beginning to relate to them_.

Saphira snorted, a small tongue of flame erupting from her nostrils. She settles herself on a huge cushion in the middle of Eragon's chamber, and shifted under she found a comfortable position.

Eragon was irritable as he lay down on his bed, which was nothing fancy, just a wood frame with a straw mattress. _What did you need to do that for_? he exclaimed. _I tell you you're going to set the island on fire one of these days._

_Eragon_, she said, trying to reason with him, _it's no good being difficult. Tell me what's wrong? Don't you think you can trust me with your concerns?_

Eragon realized how she felt. _I'm sorry my beautiful sapphire_, he said. _Nothing in my mind is hidden from you. Nothing I tell you will be news for you. I'm not sure what it is myself, but something is troubling me._

Saphira raised her head from the cushion and fixed her blue gem-like eyes on him. _Yes little one. The feeling is strong. I felt it all day, radiating from you._

Eragon hesitated, then said, _It's nothing, Saphira. It's getting late and you need your rest. Sleep now, and pay it no mind._

_You need your rest_, she retorted, and laid her head back down. Eragon knew she had only let the matter rest for this once, and she would tackle it again on the first chance she got. Eragon smiled at her worry of him, and tried to doze off to sleep.

At the foot of his bed, Saphira fell asleep, the gentle rising and falling of her breath soothing to his troubled mind. He closed his eyes and tried to forget his worries for a while, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Arya. Arya, the woman whom he had rescued from Gil'ead. Arya, the woman who had helped him slay Durza the Shade. Arya, the woman with whom he had travelled to Ellesméra. Arya, the woman who had rushed into Helgrind after him. Arya, the woman who had been trapped under Dras Leona with him. Arya, the woman together with whom he had been through so much. Arya, the woman with whom he had shared his true name. He trusted her completely, more than anybody else save Saphira. She, who had so perfectly captured his heart.

Eragon sighed, trying to lessen the weight on his chest. But she will not have me, he thought to himself. On so many occasions he had expressed his feelings for her, but she always rejected his advances. But, as he had promised her a decade and a half ago, his feelings for her would never change. They could never change. A half of his heart she had taken, and Saphira the other half. But in this anxious state of his he kept thinking of her, he knew not why. That unnerved him. Would that anything happen to her, he did not know what he could do.

Finally deciding sleep would never come to him, he left his bed and walked over to Saphira, waking her with a little nudge. She opened her blue-gem eyes slowly, blinking many times, trying to roused herself completely.

_No need_, said her rider gently, laying down next to her. She tucked him under her wing, which made her feel content.

Eragon shared with her his fears. It took her only a few seconds to take in his thoughts.

She thought them over for some time. Then she said soothingly to him,_ Whatever is it, we cannot make any sense of it at this time, so better to spend this time as you can. Sleep, all shall be well._

_I love you Saphira._

_And I you, little one._

**Hey guys, its my first fic. please review, i would really appreciate constructive critisism. its small now, but ill begin working on the next chapters in a few hours or so. So anyway, read and review, tell me what your think. hope you like it**

**if anybody wants to post flames, do as u like, i care not.**

**-Blood**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! i edited the chapter, so u might wanna reread it through, because i realized (with help from a certain dragonslayer xD) that the events looked too unnatural.  
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**all those who reviewed, id like to thank u *bows*  
and one before finishing ill take about my style of and, comma, and , comma, and and etc. its a bad habit iv fallen into. i know the writing style i use is considered pretty much archaic by now. i usually write in the style that i read, which is mostly tolkien xD which u guys may have noticed by some character names (silvar = sindar+silvan (two elvish cultures in middle earth) and eldur, which is islandic, and tolkien gets many dwarvish names from that language, are two examples) but anyway i hope to drop this habit in time. so thats pretty much it , see u with the updates :D  
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**i tried to lessen my use of comma, and. i havent perfected it by i hope theres progress. so guys review again, tell me what u think**

**-Blood**

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**Chapter 2**

The next day dawned bright, with the sun shining brightly on the majestic island of New Vroengard. There were not many buildings on the island yet, save for Vroengard castle and the riders' armory.

The island was not much bigger than the old Vroengard. It was a mountainous area with lush forests. In the center of the island was a valley about twice the size of the one where Eragon grew up (Palancar Valley). It was there that the Riders established their stronghold. Upon his arrival (and it was after a few months after leaving Alagaësia that Eragon decided to use this island) Eragon and the elves had placed numerous wards around the island, which Eragon eventually named New Vroengard, being unable to come up with anything more creative.

On New Vroengard the sun shone brightly that day, and the dark rainclouds gathering in the east seemed not to disturb it. Its light threw the entire valley into enlightenment, bringing every detail to sight. It looked magnificent, but Vroengard Castle looked the most majestic of all the buildings. Its watchtowers were lined with gold, and diamonds were embedded into the walls. A great castle it was and beautiful, putting Nasuada's castle in Ilirea to shame. Behind the castle were huge grounds were the Riders trained, beyond which was the mouth to a huge cave where all the dragons, save Saphira, slept.

It was just after dawn that Eragon's spells roused him from sleep. He opened his eyes slowly and rolled out from under Saphira's wing. He stood up and stretched, yawning widely. He walked over to the washbasin next to the door and washed his face, shivering as the cold water trickled down his neck.

It was as he was putting an elven tunic on that Saphira, too, woke.

_Good morning, little one,_ she said, yawning wider than he.

_Good morning, Saphira_, he replied. Walking over to the window, he moved the curtain away, letting the sunlight stream in.

_It's a beautiful day_, she commented as the sunlight fell upon her scales, making them gleam. Eragon though he had never seen a sight quite so splendid. _With much to do_.

_When is it that we are free_? he wondered.

Saphira chuckled. _Have patience Eragon. Something great will come of our efforts._

_That is all well_, he said, _but do you not think I should scry Arya before we begin?_

_Our days our busy, Eragon,_ said Saphira, _but that is not true for everyone. No doubt Arya is not free either, but she does not have six students to train. I do not think she would wake this early._

_You are right_, said Eragon, kissing her snout. Then he proceeded to putting his belt on; a belt that had an ordinary hand-and-a-half sword, not Brisingr, because he had no wish to fight against his students with a Brightsteel sword forged by Rhunön, even if it was dulled.

_I assume you wish to proceed as usual_? he asked his dragon.

_You _assume_?_ she demanded. _Can you not sense what I am thinking?_

_I can!_ said Eragon quickly, grinning. _Relax, Saphira._

_Stop being so thick, little one, or I will grab you and lick you all over._

Eragon shuddered at the thought of being licked by Saphira's rough tongue, with which she could peel the meet off of her prey's bones with ease. _You would not do that…_

_Do I ever make idle threats_? she said menacingly.

Then, bidding her Rider goodbye, she flew out the window. She was going to the other dragons, who were undoubtedly waiting for her in the sparring grounds behind the palace along with their Riders, then she would have them practice some maneuvers she had been teaching them for the past few weeks.

Eragon left his room and went down the great flight of stair to the main hall below. The main hall was the first room in castle, and such a grand place it was that it could fit ten farms the size of Garrow's. It was longer than it was wide. Gilded were its walls, and white was its floor, of marble, and at its end were two huge doors through which a dragon even the size of Glaedr could walk through. They led to the throne room, where Eragon sat (or would sit if he wasn't as busy training the Riders). In its opposite wall were silver doors just as big, but looked even more magnificent, for they had carvings of the Riders at the time of the Fall, such as Brom and Oromis, and their dragons. Also, it had a long verse in the Ancient Language that spoke of the Elves pact with the dragons. The doors were too heavy to be opened manually, so there was a stone slab to their right, which Eragon pressed. Then he stood back, waiting for them to open.

Slowly they swung inwards, revealing to Eragon New Vroengard.

The valley was long, and from where he stood, Eragon could not see its other end. Birds fluttered overhead, chirping loudly as they raced to its end. The mountains framing it were covered with trees. The trees were thick and ancient, and for long years lay undisturbed by the hands of the races that inhabited Alagaësia. Very thick was their canopy. Indeed, so dense it was that it almost transformed day into night on the slopes. As the sloped flatted into the valley-ground, the trees thinned, before failing altogether, so the valley was largely free of such growth, a fact Eragon was thankful to fate for.

Eragon strode around the castle to the sparring grounds beyond. While walking, Eragon inspected the marble walls of Vroengard Castle, scanning them for some sign of wear. As much as he could see in his haste, he found none. It pleased Eragon, bringing a smile to his face.

When he got there, Eragon saw that his students were all there, save for one, an elf by the name of Silvär. He was the oldest student, and by far the most skilled, and learned the quickest. His dragon was the third whose egg Eragon gave to Alagaësia, the first two being the ones that he left with the dwarves and Urgals.

A year after his departure, when the eggs didn't so much as stir, Eragon send four of Blödhgarm's spell casters with another dragon egg, a gleaming silver, which hatched within weeks for a young elf by the name of Silvär. The silver dragon, named Vindbylür by his Rider, became the first to hatch of the ones in the Vault of Souls. That was fourteen years ago, since then he had trained with Eragon. Next year the Urgals' egg hatched for a Kull named Uftak. He stood eight feet tall, and now his appearance was complimented by a great black dragon, who Saphira named Svâraúm at his Rider's request, by his side. Three years later the dwarves' dull orange egg hatched, making Eldur the first dwarven Rider. His dragon was named Dy'riell. A long time then Eragon spent training his first three students, and for three years he sent no eggs, only concentrated on training, which had to be accelerated a lot more than how training normally went with the Riders of old if they were to establish their power in New Vroengard; and Alagaësia (it went so fast that Eragon had introduced Elrun and Uftak to gramarye). Only when he believed the young riders were through the first stages of their training did he send another egg to Alagaësia, a pale yellow one, which hatched in two years, that was five years from now, for a young man six-and-ten years old. Hermandur he was named, and his dragon was Fellebíra. Now Silvär was off to Alagaësia once more with a dragon egg with one of Blödhgarm's spellcasters. The egg was a rich amber color. As he was the most senior Rider on New Vroengard after Eragon, he was trusted with most important tasks.

As Eragon arrived, the three Riders raised their practice swords in greeting.

'Hail, Ebrithil!' they cried as one. Looking at them, he could not help but smile. Watching them grow, and become stronger, made him feel that all he went through, all his sacrifices were not in vain after all. 'Hail, Riders,' he replied, grinning.

'Atra du evarínya ono varda, Eragon-elda,' came a voice from behind Eragon.

Eragon spun around to see Blödhgarm standing behind him with his first two fingers touching his lips. A small smile curled Eragon's lips as he thought about the elves' stealth.

'Atra esterní ono thelduin, Blödhgarm-vodhr,' replied Eragon, touching his lips too.

'There has been word from Silvär, Shur'tugal,' said Blödhgarm, lowering his arm. 'The egg sent to the Broddring Kingdom has hatched.'

Before Eragon could respond, the other Riders cheered in union.

'Truly, this is great news, Blödhgarm!' said Eragon after the others had finished. 'We've waited months for this news, have we not?'

'Indeed we have,' said Blödhgarm, smiling slightly.

'To whom did it hatch?'

'To a human, but he didn't say who. But I must say he looked excited.'

'Elrun ono, Blödhgarm,' said Eragon. Blödhgarm bowed.

Then Eragon turned to his students. 'Unsheathe your blades and dull them with magic,' he instructed. He drew his own sword and did likewise, saying, 'Gëuloth du knífr!' Then he continued, 'Uftak and Eldur will fight.' Pairing a dwarf with a Kull was his way of preparing them for unfortunate and unexpected situations. 'Hermandur will fight me.'

Then the sparring began. Every day Eragon paired up with another of his students, but as they were only four, he went through them rather quickly. Through his link with Saphira he could see her telling the dragons about swerving around in the air to dodge arrows and other projectiles.

Eragon looked into Hermandur's eyes and smiled. That was the only warning he got as the older Rider lunged, slashing with his sword. Hermandur clumsily raised his sword and managed to clock the strike, though it was close.

Eragon wasted no time and feigned a jab at his right knee. Hermandur looked confident, and swiftly moved his leg away. Eragon twisted around in mid-strike and placed his sword on the young man's collarbone.

'Dead,' he said. Hermandur looked greatly disappointed. He sheathed his sword and walked to the end of the grounds where he sat, leaning against a tree. Eragon looked at him. Then he decided to walk over to him, and sat down beside him.

'Tell me what it is that troubles you,' asked Eragon kindly.

'Ebrithil…' replied Hermandur. He seemed unsure of his words and continually faltered. 'Ebrithil, why is that whenever I fight anybody, I always; _always_ end up losing? Is it because I'm incompetent? I really think so. Maybe I should never _have_ become a Rider. That's right! I know I'd be better off working as a sailor back in Teirm. Ever since I've come here, I've been useless. Ever since I was a child, I dreamed of becoming a Rider when I heard the tales and songs. But… Now that I am, I've been nothing but a burden to you and my fellow students.'

'Would you rather you had never met Fellebíra?' asked Eragon. Hermandur looked stunned at being asked this. Eragon didn't give him a chance to answer, however, and continued gently, 'Your becoming a Rider was worth it. You are a worthy addition to our ranks. Do not doubt Fellebíra's judgment; she chose well. Dragons don't make mistakes, least of all while choosing their Riders. Rejoice; few are those who dragons choose to share their being with. You have potential. As for your losing battles, that, too, I know the reason for. Whenever you fight, you take either of two options. You either leap at your opponent without any consideration, or you stand your ground and wait for your opponent to do whatever they might wish; which, I should remind you, in a real fight would kill you.

'What you should remember is that, in a fight, you can never be _hasty_, nor can you be _relaxed_. Remember, the trick is not to make the quickest move, but to attack at the _right time_.'

'How can I do that, master,' said Hermandur looking up at Eragon.

'You must _see_ what you are looking at. Watch your opponent. Try to determine his next move from his feet and his shoulders. Anticipate his next move. Think about what you know of him. Use _that_ knowledge against him.'

Then Eragon paused, hesitating. Then he decided to tell his student. 'When I used to spar with Arya, I seldom won. Despite the fact that she was not a Rider then, and despite the fact that I had been taught by much stronger teachers, she almost always managed to defeat me. Then my master told me what I have told you now. This knowledge has served me well throughout the years.'

For the first time, he noticed a spark in Hermandur's eyes: a spark of hope. With that they stood and faced each other and began the match again. Eragon shouted instructions constantly. 'Move your feet there,' he shouted over the sound out colliding swords. 'Duck! Be light on your feet, never put your feet down completely in a fight! Swing you shoulders…'

So it continued like it did every other day. They fought tirelessly. Uftak against Elrun and Eragon against Hermandur; with Blödhgarm watching them intently. Eragon noticed that Hermandur seemed a lot more confident of himself, and a lot more calculating, and as a result of that, he lasted much longer than he ever had. Around three hours passed with them sparring, occasionally switching training partners. So it was that Eragon was fighting Uftak (with constantly with the upper hand) that he spotted the four dragons in the sky, coming back from the mountains with Saphira in the lead. As the neared their Riders Saphira let out a great roar, getting everyone's attention.

For some time they circled them, then they began to descend. _Thud_, _thud_, came the sound of their wings, sending huge gusts of winds towards them. Eragon's eyes watered.

The ground shook as they landed in their Riders' midst. Saphira looked around, folding her wings smugly.

_Greetings little one_, said Saphira. _Did you miss me_?

_More than you can imagine,_ said Eragon, grinning. He ran over to her and kissed her snout.

_Hail, Ebrithil_, said Svâraúm and Fellebíra.

Dy'riell greeted Eragon saying, _Greetings, master._

_Well met,_ _young dragons_, said Eragon. The others walked over to their dragons too, no doubt they had much to discuss.

_Well, they shouldn't really_, said Eragon to Saphira. _They would not need to if they didn't have each other blocked out all the time; or from some parts of their minds._

_Do not be too hard on them, Eragon,_ said Saphira. _Remember when we trained with Oromis and Glaedr. We didn't focus on each other either._

Eragon almost laughed out. _I was talking about privacy. From you._ Saphira chuckled, the sound akin to thunder that came from her throat.

Then Eragon turned to the students. 'Saphira and I have some work to,' he announced. 'We will likely not be back for some time. You can spend that time how you wish.'

The Riders nodded, for always were Riders and their dragons eager to spend time together.

With that Eragon mounted Saphira, and she flew him to the large open window of his bed chamber.

The window had been built with Saphira in mind, so she was able to fly through it quite comfortably. Landing, however, was less easy. Saphira had to avoid Eragon's bed, dresser and mirror. She flapped her wings carefully as she landed and Eragon dismounted. Eragon was eager to look at Arya and talk to her, to make sure she was safe, so without wasting any more time Eragon walked over to the mirror. It was as tall as Eragon and less wide.

Eragon stood in front of it and probed into the deepest reaches of his mind. There he found a pool of energy, into which he delved, and summoning the energy that was needed Eragon said the words: 'Draumr Kópa.'

The surface of the mirror shimmered, and Eragon's reflection disappeared. For some moments the mirror remained black; black and blank. Then the darkness gave way, and a room materialized, which Eragon recognized as Arya's bedchamber. In front of her scrying mirror stood Arya, tall and beautiful and serene, to whom Eragon had spoken for nigh on a decade; for eight years.

As he beheld her, his heart seemed to stop, as did time around him. His breath caught up in his throat. She looked gorgeous as ever. She was dressed in a long dress of midnight blue lined with golden embroidery. Her raven hair flowed down to her shoulders, and below. Upon her head was a crown of gold. Looking at her, what Eragon was feeling caught up with him. The feeling of _emptiness_ that he felt without her. _Who said everything was worth it_? Eragon thought to himself. Looking at her Eragon realized a hole in his heart, a hole no number of young Dragon Riders could. Indeed, it was a hole nobody- nothing could fill, except for being with her, inhaling her pine needle scent. Eragon felt a sense of longing, as he stared at, what was in his mind, the image of perfection. He reached out a hand towards her, knowing full well he could not touch her through the mirror. Her name escaped him lips softly: 'Arya…'

'Eragon,' she said, looking happy to see him but unsurprised. Eragon felt his eyes becoming a little moist. Then he also smiled.

He touched his index and middle fingers to his lips. 'Atra du evarínya ono varda,' he said.

'Eragon,' she said, waving her hand. 'Such formalities are not needed among friends. Tell me, how have you been?'

'I have been well Arya,' he said. 'But I am more concerned about you; how are you?'

'I have been good as well.'

So they spoke of many things. Arya spoke with Eragon, and also with Saphira, through Eragon. Eragon recounted to her all his experiences in New Vroengard, for the last time they had spoken was in a meeting of leaders. She told him about Alagaësia, and of Du Weldenvarden, and her reign too, but mostly they spoke of things that mattered little, for it was the first time Eragon spoke with the thief of his heart in almost a decade, and he did not want to ruin the meeting with depressing subjects, such as peace between races in Alagaësia, which had been hard to come by.

'We need the Riders here, Eragon,' said Arya. 'The Riders were keepers of peace. It would be better for all of Alagaësia if you worked for its peace again.'

'If _we_ worked for its peace,' Eragon corrected her. 'Arya you are a Rider as well, and that above all else. New Vroengard is your home as well, after Ellesméra. You are always welcome here. With your kind,' he added with a smirk. 'But no, we cannot return to Alagaësia, at least not yet. We are too few, and most of us are still in training. And besides, I don't think we can ever return permanently, for even the Riders of old didn't stay there.'

Arya looked troubled, but didn't pursue the subject. From their conversation Eragon guessed she wasn't very comfortable with her position of queen, he knew she'd rather be elsewhere. He daren't hope that place was New Vroengard, but it comforted Eragon immensely.

Eragon spoke with her for well over an hour, before the Elf Lords and Ladies requested another meeting.

Arya sighed as the messenger left her. 'That was the third time this week that I have been called. Do you know what they would discuss? Mostly things that nobody but they cared about.'

Eragon smiled slightly. 'Why not abdicate the throne and come to New Vroengard?' he said, deciding to push his luck.

'Why don't _you_ abdicate the position of Lord Rider and come back to Alagaësia?' she retorted. Eragon's smile widened; he had expected naught else. 'Couldn't you do that?'

Eragon sighed. 'Arya… you know I would do anything for you.'

Arya looked troubled. 'Eragon…' she warned.

'Yes, I know,' he said. Then he whispered her true name.

She shivered at the recognition of those words. Then he saw a small smile grace her lips as he spoke his back. He reacted likewise.

'Well, Eragon,' she said. 'I wished I could have spoken to you longer.'

'Oh we will, Arya,' confirmed Eragon. 'If you do not come here, I will surely visit Ellesméra.;

Her face lit up; slightly, ever so slightly. Somebody who didn't know her really, _really_ well would not have noticed. 'You will?'

'I will have to,' he said.

They could not talk for much longer, for Arya had to go. So Eragon took his leave of her and bade her goodbye.

He whistled, sitting back on his bed. 'Thank the gods she's alright,' he said. He could sense that Saphira was relieved as well, but she said nothing. She had been hoping to talk with Fírnen, but he, as Arya told them, had gone to Ilirea to meet with Nasuada. Arya, who was otherwise occupied, could not leave.

Despite everything, there was one thing Eragon did not understand. His feeling of dread did not heal, even though he knew Arya was safe. If anything, it grew stronger and firmer, and that thought occupied his mind throughout the day, which went just the same as the others. After the lessons were over Eragon and Saphira flew with the other Riders to the mountains where they spent some time practicing mounted combat, and then they practiced magic with the elves participating in the training as well, after which Eragon excused himself and retired to his bed chambers. He wasted no time and undressed. Once more he lay next to Saphira, leaving his straw bed unoccupied. Only a handful of times could he remember sleeping in his own bed.

When the next day dawned, the rainclouds were a little closer than before. It was the day Silvär would return. They did not even spar, for they had no time, Silvär had told Blödhgarm he would return around dawn. But even if they did have time, Eragon doubted they could have done very well, with all the excitement between them. Indeed, Eragon was so excited himself that he could barely sleep, and Saphira as well.

Some time after dawn, the Riders and dragons and also Blödhgarm and his ten spellcasters gathered in front of the main doors to Vroengard Castle. Eragon could barely breathe with all the anticipation that he felt. How long they stood there, Eragon could only guess. But eventually they heard a sound, faint at first, but growing progressively louder. _Thud, thud_, it was, unmistakably the sound of a dragon's wings. At length Vindbylür came into view, upon his back Silvär.

Vindbylür landed in front of them, and Silvär dismounted.

'Greetings, Ebrithil, brothers!' he said, but Eragon did not reply. His gaze was fixed upon the new Rider, he froze, and his eyes widened. For he recognized the new Rider who dismounted Vindbylür after Silvär. Eragon could not believe his eyes.

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**A/N: Rgghh who is this next rider? read on :P first of all, thanks for reading. hoping to hear (or read) what you think abt it so review! :P ill start working on the next chapter now and have it up by tomorrow (hopefully). read the next chapters to find out who the rider it. well that's it i suppose for the a/n for now, see you guys with the next chapter!**

**ElementalDragonSlayer: thank you for the review, though as u said not much could be said reading the first chapter. anyway, thanks!**

**-Blood**


	3. Chapter 3

**Announcement: Guys i'm really sorry for the delay in the updates, but the next chapter actually gives the first hints of the plots (very slight hints tho) and i wanted to do that one well. a shout out goes to all my followers for their continued patience. i should have the next chapter up by tomorrow if all goes well (i.s.a)**

**-Blood**

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Chapter 3

A Shadow of the Past

The hills lay quiet under the night sky. The sky was black, and but for the many stars therein, there would be complete darkness under it. The hills were dark also, on them grew trees; thick, but not very tall. Under their canopy was dense undergrowth, which ended with the forest: at the foot of the hills. The hills were part of a long range of mountains known as the Spine, which extended from the northernmost reaches of Alagaësia, and probably even before that, and continued south until they failed between the cities of Belatona and Feinster.

In that place it was usual for the silence to prevail during the night. It was always utterly still and silent, not a creature wanting to disturb the quiet that reigned there. If someone were to come here for the first time, they would not notice the small settlement of a farmers living a short distance from the foot of the hills. The village was dark and its buildings had thatched roofs. The light that came from it was gloomy. It was built by farmers, but long since its main income had been the many travelers that stayed at the inn traveling between Belatona and Feinster. The inn had to be large to accommodate all of the people staying there. And so it was that the inn was the biggest of the buildings in the village; three storeys high and bigger on each floor than the rest of the buildings combined. Few sounds came from it, for most people were asleep.

So it was that the bushes on the hills rustled. The sound was faint, but seemed loud in the night. The rustling came again, followed by silence. Then, without warning, a man emerged from the trees, wearing travel-worn clothes. He was alone and had nothing on him, not even a pack. But that was not the most peculiar thing about him. The strangest thing about him was his coming from the mountains, for that would mean he came from the north. The people in the north feared the mountains as much as death, for if their legends were anything to judge by, the Spine _was_ death; or worse (even though there fear of it had lessened considerably over the past decade). So what need was such that it would drive an unarmed man from the north to venture into those mountains? What reason could be so great, in these times of peace?

The man's clothes were ragged. He wore a simple leather shirt, torn in several places. A huge chunk was missing from the chest-area, the left sleeve was torn below the elbow and it looked so worn that the original color could not be determined. On his feet he wore riding boots, which were in no better condition than the rest of his attire. On his back was a cloak that hung to the middle of his back, beyond which point it, too, was torn off. Its hood he had drawn close over his face, hiding it from view completely. If his appearance was anything to judge by, the man could pass for a peasant, or a slave, quite easily. He couldn't be someone of importance… Could he?

The man came out of the trees, shaking the leaves and twigs off his clothes, and started towards the village. His stride was long, and his step powerful. The bearing with which he walked could hardly be rivaled even by imperial nobles in Ilirea. He walked with his shoulders thrown back, exposing his chest. His arms swung strongly with his step, each of which landed heavily but effortlessly. There was an air of commanding about him.

He entered the village quiet as a shadow, so much so that not even a werecat perched upon the roof of a house could have seen his movement, and made his way towards the inn.

At the entrance of the inn were two large double-doors of wood, the same material that was used for building the walls. The man swung the doors open and entered.

The common room was a low, long room, and was largely empty except for a few old men huddled close together on stools next to the fireplace, smoking pipes and sipping brandy. The man looked at them with disgust as he passed them.

Walking over to the counter, he scanned the place for a sign of the inn-keeper. He was not difficult to locate, sleeping in a chair in a corner of the inn a few meters behind the counter. The man tapped the counter impatiently with his fingernails.

A few moments passed before the inn-keeper stirred; disturbed, no doubt, by the man's rapping. The man did not deter, but tapped the counted with greater determination.

At length the inn-keeper yielded and opened his eyes. He searched around for the source of the irritating sound. His eyes found the man

The man stopped his tapping, seemingly satisfied.

The inn-keeper stood up and walked to the counter reluctantly.

'Oho,' he said. 'Good day sir– uhh– or maybe night… What be you a-wanting?'

'A room for the night,' replied the man. His voice was surprisingly deep

'A room?' the inn-keepers eyes shot up. Then he looked suspicious. 'Yeh sure y'can pay for it?'

If that annoyed the man, he did not show it. 'Obviously I can pay, or I wouldn't be asking.'

'Sure, that makes sense. Don't mind me, I'm just a little over the edge these days.'

'Why? What happened?'

The inn-keeper looked warily around, then explained darkly, 'Its them Riders. They keep sending dragon eggs over the sea. One of them comes and takes the egg to every city. Everyone wants a shot at it, so they stay at home. I'm not complaining, Eragon Shadeslayer did us a huge service. But it's bad for business, see?'

That seemed to stir the man's interest. 'The Riders… Is a Rider here? Now? In Alagaësia?'

'Yea… One of them elf-folk. Being goin' back an' forth a lot these past few weeks between the cities.'

'Do you have any idea where he might be now?'

The man looked thoughtful. At length he replied. 'No. I don't know anything about him. Last I heard he was seen flying over Surda, my brother saw him. Then I think he went north. That was less than a week ago. But hey!' he shot up suddenly. 'It's late at night! I'm an old man an' I need my sleep. You give me the money and take the room I give you.'

'Oh,' said the man softly, 'why don't you give me the room now, and I can pay in the morning. I will have to pass through here on my way out.'

He took some convincing, but in the end the inn-keeper agreed. The man's room was on the top storey, at the end of the hallway. As he entered the room and closed the door behind him, he muttered something under his breath. Then he clasped the handle and pulled. The door remained firmly shut.

Satisfied, he strode around the room, checking it thoroughly. For some minutes he did that, then he drew the curtains over the window, then went to lie in the bed.

As he lay down, he winced, for he didn't trust the blankets to be free from mice and bugs.

As it turned out, the bed really didn't have any insects. So the man allowed himself to relax. Soon he drifted into sleep, and the night went by uneventfully.

Some hours later the sun crept up. She peeped over the horizon to the lands beyond. Promptly every creature woke, as if the moment they had been waiting for had finally arrived. Birds chirped, flying towards the sky to start their day, and the animals of the land started their businesses as well.

It was then that the man woke up. He opened his eyes and quickly sat up in the bed. He did not yawn, nor stretched, nor indeed did he gave any signs that he did actually sleep. And he might not have slept all night, but for the hood of his cloak, which had left his head.

For some minutes the man kept sitting in the bed, hearing the sounds of life outside. Then he stood. His plan was to leave the room through the window so as to not have to pay. He did not want to leave the door locked, for that would draw attention and lead people to think why somebody had locked the door for days (he knew his locks could not be opened except by the most skilled). He started towards the window. Then he hesitated. For a moment he considered, then, suddenly deciding, went and unlocked the door. He thought nobody would be awake this early. He was mistaken.

He was drawing moving the curtains away when the door creaked open behind him and he heard someone enter.

'Oh sir,' came a man's voice.

'Why did you open my door?' asked the man, his voice deadly quiet.

'Sir, I thought you might appreciate it if I cleaned the room, sir,' said the man, his voice quivering.

'_I _might appreciate it? When I'm leaving?'

'Sir I didn't know you were…'

'Well, now you do… No harm done, right?'

'Yes sir- I hope so, sir.'

'You are mistaken.' With that he turned around to look at the man.

Recognition flashed across the other man's face. He blanched. 'You…' he managed to stutter.

'Me.' The other man did not even scream as he caught his throat, and hung him in the air until he died.

'You are but one of many who will die ere this is over… Yes. I will find the traitors. And I will make them pay in blood!'

* * *

**A/N: hahahaha now we've got two unkown ppl instead of one :P ****first of all id like to apologize for this being such a short chapter after such a long time. thank u readers for reviewing. here is another chapter to review! :P so read and tell me what you think. looking forward to reading ur reviews. so anyway see u guys with the next chapter where we'll find the identity of the new rider! just so u know, the only important character in this chapter was the mysteeeeerrrriiiioooous traveler. :P read on as i answer all the reviews  
**

* * *

**-ElementalDragonSlayer: thank you for pointing out my mistakes, i really appreciate it. i edited the last chapter a bit so u might wanna check it out. anyway hoping to hear from u abt this chapter too :D**

**-rairio: thanks for reviewing and sorry to keep u waiting (Which im still doing :P)**

**-Aqua Rules: thanks :D**

**-stapet: gonna have to read the next chapter to find out xD**

**-Vizual-Era: i won't lie: i hate cliffies too. but as u said it keeps the reader's attention. well, heres another cliffhanger (sorry abt that) :D**

**-Ky111: yes some of the wild eggs have hatched, theyr probably gonna appear in the next chapter**

**-no name (guest): hahaha i dont mean to! (at least not yet :P)**

**Gonna update in a one or two days. readers, stay tuned :D**

**-Blood**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The King of Surda

Eragon stood waiting. He stared into the horizon, squinting for any sign of a dragon. Beside him stood Saphira, on whom he had placed his hand. Also in their midst stood Hermandur, Uftak and Eldur, and their dragons. On a stool next to the door rested the Eldunarí of Glaedr.

They had gathered in front of Vroengard Castle, waiting to welcome Silvär and his dragon Vindbylür, and the newest additions to their order, who were travelling with them.

They stood with their breaths held. Eragon could almost see the air shimmer with their excitement, and he felt it as well. Through their connection, Eragon sensed Saphira feel the same way.

_Another human!_ said Eragon. Despite his earlier statement that he was through with his kind, Eragon did feel a little happy. _Four of us in the order now._

_Four humans, two elves, one dwarf and one Urgal_, Saphira observed.

_Humans are in the greatest numbers._

_No! _said Saphira indignantly. _Eight dragons! Do we not count?_

_Aye! How could I forget. Sorry, Saphira_, he added sheepishly. Saphira chuckled deeply, a sound akin to thunder coming from her throat.

At that moment from the south came Blödhgarm and his ten spellcasters. After they all exchanged elven greetings (Eldur rather reluctantly), Blödhgarm took his place next to Eragon.

'No sign of him yet?'

'No.' Eragon shook his head.

For some time they stood there. How long it was exactly, Eragon could only guess. The only way to measure the time they had was that they could see the sun climbing slowly upwards in the sky towards the noon.

At length a black haired elf from Blödhgarm's group, Laufin (he was one of the two who had not accompanied Eragon to New Vroengard after the war, but had arrived with Silvär), spoke. 'Do you hear that?' he said. 'The wings of a dragon!'

Immediately Eragon felt everyone tense. He had heard it too. _Thud_, _thud. _Unmistakably was it the sound of a dragon's wings. He felt a chill settle on his shoulders. But it was not a chill of fear, but of anticipation. He could barely breathe. _It is always so_, he thought, and his Saphira heard, she gave no reply. _But most of all_… He remembered when Silvär and Vindbylür had come from Alagaësia. He had almost been jumping. In any other situation, the memory would burn his cheeks.

The _thud, thud _grew louder. Eragon looked wildly around for the source of the sound.

_Little one_, said Saphira, nudging him on the shoulder. He looked in front, out to the direction where lay Alagaësia. There, in the sky, was a tiny speck. But it grew progressively larger, and at such a rate no bird could surpass.

Soon it grew so large that it left no doubt that it was no bird. Eragon did not need to strain his ears to hear the thudding now.

Only a few minutes passed before Eragon was able to roughly distinguish the shape of a dragon. He began to make out a blurry outline of wings. _And so it happens again._

_Once more it is that we are the ones to see it happen_, said Saphira.

_Wonder how many Riders and dragons we will see being bonded._

_No small number I can assure you, Iet Shur'tugal._

Some minutes passed which they hardly felt before Vindbylür was upon them, hovering over their heads.

Eragon waited patiently for the dragon to steady himself before he landed. Vindbylür, however, started circling them, without any sign of landing. Eragon frowned. _Something is wrong…_

'Silvär!' Eragon shouted. 'Vindbylür!'

'Hail, Ebrithil!' Silvär shouted back, smiling.

'What is happening? Why don't you land?'

Silvär grinned wickedly. Vindbylür continued circling. Slowly Eragon realized: no matter how hard he tried, he could not see the new Rider.

_They're hiding the Rider!_ Eragon said to Saphira.

Saphira chuckled. _Yes._ The others watched the dragon and Rider overhead anxiously.

'Come down here at once!' cried Eragon.

Silvär laughed, throwing his head back. Slowly, the silver dragon began to descend. Lower and lower they went, until with a _thump_ they landed on the soft grass.

Beaming, Silvär slipped off his dragon, masterfully freeing himself of the stirrups. He greeted everybody, but Eragon paid him no mind. For he had just laid his eyes upon the new Rider, and not, at he had expected, for the first time. His heart leapt.

As wide smile touched lips, up to his eyes it went, as he saw the new Rider dismount Vindbylür. Her copper hair was in disarray but she seemed not to mind. She cradled a little dragon in her arms. Its scales were a deep amber, and its tail was long. It looked, if such a term could be used for a dragon, quite harmless.

Its Rider set it down gently in the ground. The dragon looked up at the others of its race. In their eyes Eragon saw pure joy. Eragon looked at Saphira, who grinned.

As the Rider straightened, her brown eyes met Eragon's, which were also burning; of pride. She smiled.

Eragon laughed as she rushed at him and embraced him as tightly as he could not remember being embraced in a long time. He hugged her back, the broad smile etched upon his face.

'Uncle!' she said.

'So you are our next Rider!' said Eragon, as she stepped back. 'Look at your hair!' he said fondly. 'I'll have water prepared for you to bathe, and then have new clothes ready for you.'

Then he turned to the others. 'Riders and dragons! I present to you your newest member: this is Ismira Katrinasdaughter, whose father is Roran Stronghammer the son of Garrow, and of my close kin.'

He then proceeded to introducing each of the Riders and also Blödhgarm's group to Ismira. The Riders looked overjoyed, as they always did while meeting someone of their order for the first time. It was as Ismira was speaking to Uftak that Eragon heard a sound like thunder faintly. He dismissed it as unimportant and continued.

The sound was constant, and a few moments later, it grew too loud to be ignored. _Thud, thud_, the sound came. Everyone turned to look towards the mountains beyond the castle where they saw two dragons flying towards them.

Eragon recognized the forms as Fundor, a wild dragon with midnight blue scales, and his mate Opheila, who had lilac scales.

_Ah them!_ said Eragon.

_How could they miss such an important event as the birth of a new dragon?_ Saphira said.

Fundor and Opheila, first two of the wild dragon eggs under Vroengard, roared as they approached. Saphira also roared in return, as did Vindbylür. The other dragons, far younger than either, simply dipped their heads.

The wild dragons landed so hard that the ground shook. Eragon chuckled as Ismira gasped. Then the dragons ran to lose their momentum. At length they slowed and turned towards the others.

_Greetings Shur'tugal Eragon, Lady Saphira_, said Fundor in his deep rumble.

_Hail Eragon-elda, Lady Saphira_, said Opheila.

'To you as well,' said Eragon. 'Where are the others?' Eragon was referring to the other three wild dragons that had hatched after those two. The wild dragons hatched much more frequently than the bonded dragons, for food in the valley was abundant and they did not have to wait for their Riders.

_They are off hunting_, said Fundor. _We were not aware that Vindbylür and his Rider were returning, and so they went off to some of the surrounding islands._

'Yes,' Eragon sighed. 'Forgive me for not sending word to you about this, we have been rather busy.' Eragon's eyes flashed towards Hermandur and Eldur, who looked guilty.

_You need not apologize, Dragon Rider. We are very eager to meet the new dragon and his Rider._

So Eragon took Ismira's hand and brought her forth towards Fundor. Feeling the need for care, Eragon extended his mind towards hers and said, _Do not pet him like you would a bonded dragon. I've had little dealing with these wild dragons, but I expect such gestures will offend him._

Eragon could see she was . Indeed, she almost gasped, but she recognized the warning in Eragon's stare.

She approached the dragon with care, who watched her, blinking slowly. Behind them towered Opheila, her gaze also fixed on Ismira.

Ismira, who did not yet know how to reach out with her mind to anyone other than her dragon, spoke aloud. She stuttered, 'Greetings, Skulblaka.' Her knowledge of the ancient language surprised Eragon, even though all she said was a word.

The dragon stared for a moment. Then, to Ismira's surprise as much as Eragon's, he chuckled. Saphira cocked her head, staring at him.

_Worry not, Shur'tugal_, he said, projecting his thoughts to everyone. _Worry not. We do not eat hatchlings._

Ismira smiled nervously, then she said, 'Greetings, Skulblaka. I am Ismira Katrinasdaughter of Carvahall.'

_Hoom-boom… I am Fundor, and my mate is Opheila, Ismira daughter of Katrina… Hm… Where be your dragon?_

'He is here.'

So Ismira lifted up her dragon to the others. Immediately Eragon saw their eyes soften, and Opheila lowered her head and touched him with the tip of her snout.

_He is a fine hatchling_, she said.

At that moment, Fundor suddenly jerked his head.

'What is it?' asked Eragon.

_Our group is being attacked by __a Nïdhwal,_ said Fundor. He gathered his wings, then shot up into the air.

'Would you like us to come?' asked Eragon.

_No, Shur'tugal. The Nïdhwal is young, almost a hatchling. Our brothers were caught unawares is all. We can take him._

Then he launched himself forward, going fast as Saphira had only sometimes.

_But we do appreciate your concern_, said his mate, and from his mind Eragon sensed agreement, but he had gone far.

The dragons then shut their minds off from them and disappeared into the sky.

'What was that about?' asked Ismira, frightened.

_A Nïdhwal_, explained Glaedr from his Eldunarí, _is a sea-serpent._ Ismira turned around, searching for the source of the voice. She spotted the Eldunarí and smiled understandingly._ They are cousins of us dragons. They are very powerful, but I daresay five wild dragons will be enough for a hatchling. We need not worry._

'Yes, Ebrithil,' said Ismira.

This time Eragon could not stop himself. 'Who taught you these words?'

Ismira smiled slightly. 'Mostly Lady Arya, but sometimes the court wizard in Ilirea.'

Then she put her first two fingers on her lips. 'Atra du evarínya ono varda.'

Eragon gasped, but hastily did the same and answered, 'Atra esterní ono thelduin. Do you know the Ancient Language now?'

'Not much,' she admitted. 'Only these greetings and a few other words. Never thought I'd need to use this language, but…' Her voice trailed off into silence.

'Well,' said Eragon. 'You have been through a long journey today. I'll have some water prepared for you now, and then as I said, new clothes as well. But first tell me; have you named your dragon?'

'No, not yet.'

'Then do so,' Eragon said.

'Um, well… I want to name him something befitting a dragon. Something powerful and also that sounds good…'

'May I give a suggestion, Ismira?' asked Uftak suddenly.

'Sure.'

Uftak thought for a moment. He tried to say something, but faltered.

'Bah,' said Eldur, stepping forward. 'Say naught. Good names are only in mine language.' Hermandur said nothing.

'Have you any suggestions?' said Eragon with a small smile.

Eldur frowned. 'No, Ebrithil,' he admitted. 'I do not. Why don't you give it a try?'

'Alright. Ismira,' said Eragon. She looked at him eagerly. 'How is Zathvír?'

Ismira's face lit up excitedly. 'What does it mean, Uncle?'

'It means the great hunter.'

'It is a beautiful name… Zathvír.'

Zathvír leaped up into his Rider's arms and growled contentedly.

Eragon went to Silvär, who stood at the end of the group, leaning against Vindbylür. 'Ebrithil,' he said as Eragon approached.

'Silvär how are you?' said Eragon.

'Very well. Elrun ono Ebrithil.'

'I shall be expecting you in the throne room tomorrow afternoon to hear about your trip,' Eragon said. Behind them, the Riders were huddled around Zathvír as he hopped playfully around, trying to open his wings.

'Yes Ebrithil. There is something I wish to discuss with you as well,' Silvär said darkly.

Eragon looked sharply at him. 'What is it? Is something bothering you?'

'Nothing much, Ebrithil, it's just… I feel something. It is in the back of my mind, but it is coming forward now, but I hope it is nothing.'

The back of Eragon's neck prickled. That was dangerously like the apprehension he had been feeling for the past few days.

_Could it mean something? You have been terribly quiet for some time,_ Eragon said to Saphira.

_I do not know, little one. But I am beginning to feel it in my heart. We may have need to stretch our wings again and soar high in the air. High as we have not gone for nigh on two decades._

Eragon's dread strengthened. If something could unnerve Saphira, it was not something to be ignored.

_But then again, it may be nothing,_ said Saphira, but she did not really believe it.

'What are you thinking, Ebrithil?' Silvär asked.

'I was speaking to Saphira, Silvär. I do not know much yet, but we will speak more of it tomorrow in the throne room.'

Silvär nodded knowingly. They were quiet for some time, each lost in his own thoughts.

'You have been through a long journey,' said Eragon at length, 'and I will need your help initiating Ismira's training. Go and rest now, both of you. We may yet have need of you…'

'We will go into the woods then, Ebrithil,' Silvär replied. 'We shall see you tomorrow.'

Eragon nodded and stood back as Silvär mounted Vindbylür. With a strong thrust of his wings, the dragon jumped into the air and headed south to the mountains, disappearing quickly into the gathering clouds.

Eragon turned towards the others, who were now speaking to each other. He walked to them.

'We cannot go through with the training today, as Saphira and I will be showing Ismira and Zathvír around and Silvär and Vindbylür are weary from their journey,' Eragon told them. 'So spend the day as you will.'

Then Eragon led Ismira to Vroengard Castle.

'It is a beautiful place, Uncle,' she said, eying the doors admiringly.

'That is the Elves' skill with magic that you see,' Eragon said. Then he proceeded to the steps in front of the doors. He gave some of his energy to them. The doors quivered for a moment, then silently swung open.

'How did you do that?' asked Ismira.

'The doors recognize me,' Eragon replied. 'And I will teach them to recognize you too, when you are through will your training's first part.'

Then Eragon went through them to the mail hall, beside him Saphira. They were followed by an awed Ismira who held Zathvír in her arms.

Eragon led her around the Castle, spending hours explaining the history of the Riders and their purpose. Time for him went by quickly that day. Ismira asked questions frequently, but he did not mind; for, as Saphira reminded him, he was not much different when he first became a Rider.

Many hours passed before Eragon and Ismira stood at the end of a long dark tunnel, too small for Saphira to follow. They stood in front of a double-door of wood.

'Beyond this door I cannot go,' Eragon explained when she looked at him questioningly. 'This is where the women bathe. It has pools of hot springs as far as I can tell, just like ours. I will ask Yaela to bring you some new clothes. She will then show you to your quarters.'

Ismira frowned. 'How do you have quarters for me already? You did not know I was coming.'

Eragon shrugged. 'We built ten at first, for the Riders. The Elves and Silvär (as he's an elf too) prefer to sing their own homes out of trees. I'll explain what that is later.'

'No need, Uncle, I am well aware of it.'

'Is there anything you do not know?' Eragon asked incredulously, making Ismira laugh. 'How many times have you been to Ellesméra?'

'I'm not sure,' she said. 'Once a year or two.'

Eragon stared at her disbelievingly. 'So Arya does still have contact with you people!'

'Yes, Uncle. We speak a lot with the elves. Lady Arya is a good friend of mother's. She has told me many things. About you as well.'

Eragon dearly hoped she could not see his cheeks burn in the darkness. 'What did she say?'

'Oh little things like your training and others.'

Eragon pressed her for more information, but that was all she was willing to say. At last Eragon gave up, and took Zathvír from her. He would feed him while Ismira recovered from the journey.

'Thank you Uncle,' she said softly.

With that Eragon made his way to Saphira, and together they went to back to his chambers, where Eragon fed Zathvír some of Saphira's dried meat strips. Zathvír snapped the meat up playfully, growling all the time.

Next Eragon contacted Yaela, who agreed to help Ismira. Some time later there was a rap on Eragon's door and Ismira entered, dressed in a simple red dress woven by elven hands.

Eragon stood from his bed as she came in. He said, 'That's better. You look beautiful in this dress, Ismira.'

'Thank you Uncle,' she said, smiling. 'The cloth is woven masterfully,' she observed.

'Elven weaving is the best,' Eragon said simply.

'I actually… I wish to speak of something.' Her smile had gone, replaced by a troubled expression.

Eragon offered her a seat and tea, both she took gratefully. Eragon sat down in a corner of the room on a cushion, sipping his tea quietly.

For some time they sat there in silence, which Eragon broke. 'I know what you wish to speak of.'

Ismira looked up from her tea. 'Is it true that Dragon Riders are immortal?'

Eragon nodded, smiling.

'Is it also true that ordinary humans are not?'

Eragon nodded again.

A single tear escaped her eye.

Eragon's smile widened. 'Yet, it is also true that Roran and Katrina are not ordinary people.'

She gasped. 'What do you mean?'

'Your father is part of my _very_ small family, Ismira. I care more for him than you know. Did it not occur to you that I might have taken some measures to prevent that old fool from leaving us, now didn't it?

'Have you seen, in the fifteen years of your life, your parents age even a day?'

'I do not know, I've never thought about it before,' she admitted in a small voice.

'Ismira, rest assured that your parents will not pass by aging, I have seen to that.'

'If it is true, why didn't father ever mention it to me? I was worrying about this before we left, and mother and father were trying to comfort me saying stupid things.'

A laugh escaped Eragon's lips. 'That's because they don't know it themselves! Roran would never agree to such a thing, he had very strong opinions concerning death. He was reassuring me that I _may still be killed in battle _when he found out about my immortality. He said death is a part of us. And I agree, in part. It is part of a man. But you can become much more that just that, as you will see during your training, Ismira.'

Ismira then stood up, setting her tea down and leapt into Eragon's arms. 'I love you, Uncle.'

'And I you, child.'

For some time they spoke, then Ismira took her leave and exited to her own quarters. It was late at night when Eragon finally undressed for bed.

_He looks like a fine hatchling_, Saphira said sleepily. _Will you not scry Roran now?_ A huge yawn she gave then.

_Not now, I wish for Ismira to be here when I do as well._

The next day was not as bright as the last. The rainclouds had finally closed in around the island, and now hung low in the sky. A short drizzle had fallen before dawn, but did not last for long, nor was heavy. It was during the drizzle that Eragon woke up and rolled out from under Saphira.

Eragon stretched, trying to shake his sleep off. Next he rubbed his eyes with all the vigor he could muster. He yawned loudly.

It was then that Saphira noticed him awake.

_Good morning Eragon_, she said warmly.

_To you as well, my sapphire._

She sat looking out the window, listening to the gentle patter of the rain upon it. Then Eragon noticed the rain too.

_When did it start?_

_Less than an hour ago. It's not that hard, I doubt it will continue too long._

Eragon nodded, and went over to the washbasin. As he water made contact with his hands he jumped half out of his skin. The water was freezing!

_What did you expect?_ asked an amused Saphira.

_Not this!_ he snapped.

By the time Eragon finished donning his armor the rain had stopped, but the sun did not show her face still. Saphira flew out the window and Eragon made his way to the sparring grounds, as was their routine.

After exchanging greetings with the other Riders, Eragon turned to a very nervous Ismira, at whose feet Zathvír faltered about.

'So,' he began. 'This day we will formally begin your training as Shur'tugal. You have learned much of our history yesterday. Enough, I think, that you have no more questions just now.'

But he was interrupted by Ismira. Apparently questions were one thing she would never run out of.

_You are one to talk_¸ Saphira reminded him teasingly from somewhere in the mountains. Eragon ignored her, but she spoke truth.

'When will I start to learn magic?'

'Magic?' asked Eragon, puzzled. 'Why would I teach you magic?'

'How am I supposed to learn it on my own?' she demanded, suddenly fired up. 'I'm a Rider, am I not? Don't Riders perform magic?'

Eragon slowly realized. 'Roran told you that?'

'Aye.'

Eragon cursed silently. 'Does everybody know it now?' Eragon felt a bitter taste in his mouth. The Riders' magic was there most secret ability, few knew of it, and so it gave them an edge over their enemies.

'No, Uncle,' she replied. 'I knew you'd react as such. Rest assured that our secret is still so.'

Eragon let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. He smiled slightly. 'I will introduce you to magic after the first stage of your training – that is the basics of melee combat.'

Then he spoke to the others. 'Uftak, Hermandur! Fight. And Eldur and Silvär do the same.'

So the training commenced. Eragon found himself teaching Ismira how to stand in a fight; how to hold a sword and how to move, as Brom had taught Eragon all those years ago.

As the training went by, nostalgia welled up inside Eragon. He remembered fighting his father in the Spine. He felt a sudden desire to see those mountains again; to visit Palancar Valley. One by one memories flooded to the front of his mind. Therinsford, Yazuac, Daret. Then he remember Teirm, and also Dras Leona; how Brom had sacrificed his own life for Eragon. How then they had met Murtagh, and Eragon came to terms with how much he wished to see his brother too. Gil'ead, the Hadarac Desert, Farthen Dûr, Tronjheim, Ellesméra, everything came to his mind again, all the places he'd been to, all the things he'd done, and he realized just how much he missed his home. A home that he had abandoned fifteen years ago.

He also missed the people he left behind. Murtagh, son of Morzan and Eragon's half-brother, who was bonded to the ruby dragon Thorn. Both of them had exiled themselves to the north, and had not been heard from since. He also remembered Nasuada daughter of Ajihad and queen of the Broddring Kingdom. She who had led them to victory against Galbatorix, who had not lost hope in the darkest of times. Also came to his mind Roran, the man he had grown up with; his brother in all but blood, and the King of Palancar Valley. Orik, he also remembered; the Dwarven King and Eragon's foster-brother. Finally and most painfully he thought of Arya Dröttning of the Älfakyn.

Eragon let out a huge sigh as he easily dodged a clumsy slash from Ismira. Ismira growled, and brought down her practice sword with all the strength she had. Eragon started, and forgot the block the blow in his surprise. Ismira's sword came to rest on his shoulder.

'Dead,' she said, smirking. Even though his mind was elsewhere, he had lost. _She had beaten him_, and this was her first time wielding a sword. That was more than even Silvär could claim.

'Good,' Eragon commented, greatly impressed. 'You defeated me in our first match.'

'Thank you,' she said breathlessly.

He grew serious once more. 'But you need to practice your stamina. A fifteen minute long fight should not exhaust you like that.'

She shot up again. 'I'm not exhausted! I can still fight.'

Eragon smiled at her determination. 'That is what I like to hear! But this is your first day, if you were not tired I would be very suspicious. But it will not always be so, if you work on your stamina. But more important than that is to know your enemy. An essential part of that is that is to know your enemy's intentions. You can do that by reading his thoughts. We will begin to work on that now, so follow me.'

She followed him into the forest, in her hands her dragon. Deep it was where they were going, and it was many minutes before they arrived.

Eragon had led her into a clearing where fluttered butterflies over bunches of flowers. Through its middle ran a stream; fast, but not so deep. The clearing was circular, surrounded by thick trees and old. Their barks were of a dark shade, and their leaves were thick. Inch tall grass grew there. The sunlight shone brightly upon the clearing, making the water look like crystal.

There were sounds here only of nature, to clashing of swords in the forest so deep. The clearing was filled with the gurgle of the stream. From the trees squirrels were heard and also chirping birds. There was a freshness in the air.

Ismira sat Zathvír on a log at the end of the clearing, from where he watched them curiously.

Eragon looked around, then pointed to a rock next to the water. 'Sit there,' he said.

'Now,' he began to explain after she sat on the rock with her legs crossed. 'You must enter the minds of the creatures around you.'

'How can I do that?' she asked curiously.

'Do what you do when you speak communicate with Zathvír. Reach out with your mind. Feel the thoughts of everything in this clearing. When you see one, and know all will your training be complete.'

She shrugged. 'Easy enough.'

Eragon chuckled. 'You will see.'

For some time he saw her concentrating. Then she gasped, and almost fell off the rock.

'What happened?' asked Eragon sharply. 'What did you sense?'

'I crashed into iron walls,' she said frowning.

'Oh that!' Eragon said. 'That was my mind that you felt.' He put on an apologetic face.

'I figured. You would know how to block your mind. When will you teach me that?'

'I cannot teach you that, you can only learn it by practice. What you must do is focus on one thing. Do not let your mind falter, nor lose concentration. You can do that when you are free. Eventually you will see it becomes second nature to you once you master it. For now, however, do what I asked you to. I will leave now. After one hour I will send someone to find you.'

'No need, Uncle,' she said smiling. 'I know the way.'

Eragon grinned. 'Alright then, but do not be too long.'

With that he left, making his way to the sparring grounds. He saw the others practicing magic under Blödhgarm's supervision, which relieved him, and left him free to wander. He went to a river in the forest, where he bathed, and then came back to the sparring fields.

He then said to them, 'Tell me when you are done and we can practice mental kombat.'

Uftak stepped forward. 'We are done already, master.'

Eragon divided them into two groups. Silvär and Hermandur he put in one, and in the other Uftak and Eldur. 'Silvär and Hermandur will defend against me with the help of their dragons, while Saphira shall not help me. Eldur and Uftak, you will fight Blödhgarm.'

Eragon's group went to the forest, where they sat cross-legged, looks of concentration etched upon their faces. Eragon initiated the attack, sending a tendril of though toward Hermandur. Silvär knocked Eragon aside. From Hermandur Eragon felt gratitude towards the elf.

Next Eragon attacked Silvär, ramming his strength against the elf's mental walls. Eragon started to look for a way in. Suddenly he felt two consciousnesses, different from both tha man's and the elf's, ram into his mind. Eragon withdrew his mind little, placing Vindbylür and Fellebíra (for of course it was they!) between him and their Riders. Eragon swore under his breath, and retreated behind the confines of his own mind.

Sometime Eragon waited before he felt safe to reach out again. During that time his students did not attack. Through their link Eragon saw Saphira shoot a jet of flame at Fellebíra, who swerved in midair to avoid it. Seeing the opportunity, Eragon lunged at a distracted Hermandur, and broke through his barriers and into his mind.

Immediately Eragon felt a wave of the man's memories hit him, which Eragon ignored. At that time Silvär attacked Eragon, who swiftly moved out of the way.

The minds of Hermandur and Silvär collided, and with their dragons distracted, they became confused. It was then that Eragon acted. He pinned them down, conquering both their minds.

_You need to practice your concentration. Both of you_, he said before withdrawing and offering them a chance to salvage their sanity.

'It's unfair, Ebrithil!' exclaimed Hermandur. 'You said Lady Saphira would not help you!'

Eragon frowned. 'She did not. She had no idea what we were doing just now.' Eragon had blocked her out from that part of his mind, strange as it felt.

'She attacked Fellebíra so that you could defeat us!' shouted Hermandur. He immediately regretted saying that.

Eragon drove all his strength into his mind. Fellebíra tried to help, but Eragon knocked her aside easily. He shattered Hermandur's barriers and entered his mind again; this time by force.

_I do not need a distraction to best you_, Eragon said.

Silvär was looking surprised when Eragon withdrew. 'And it will always be so if you continue to be so naïve. Learn from your mistakes! Only if you accept your shortcomings can you overcome them.'

Hermandur looked stunned. 'I am sorry, Ebrithil… Forgive me…'

Eragon stood, and so did the others.

'I am going now,' he informed them. 'We'll speak in an hour, Silvär.'

Eragon went back to the sparring grounds, where he found Ismira sitting on a stump and looking at the Urgal and the dwarf fighting mentally with Blödhgarm. He called to her.

'Uncle!' she said. 'I wanted to look for you, but they told me you were busy in training.'

'When did you arrive?'

'Some fifteen minutes ago.'

'Tell me everything you saw,' Eragon said. 'But first…'

He went inside a small door build into the Castle's wall. From there he retrieved a stool, which he took and placed next to the stump. He sat down upon it.

'Now recount to me your experience in the forest.'

That she seemed eager to do. She told him of how she had probed the minds of insects around her, and then how a squirrel had arrived in the clearing. She described (very accurately he thought) to him the emotions and thoughts of the little animals as it was chased by Zathvír, who then pounced upon it and killed it with a bite to the neck. After finishing, she looked expectantly at Eragon.

Eragon thought for a moment. 'Hm… Not bad for a first time.'

She looked disappointed. 'You expected more didn't you.'

He sighed. 'Yes I did. But it was your first time, so don't let it trouble you overly too much.'

'Eragon, what I'm I listening for?'

'Everything, Ismira. You must listen until the forest has nothing left to show you. Then you will come to me.'

'Thank you… Ebrithil.'

Eragon smiled warmly. 'We are done for the day. We will not train further today because I have to speak with Silvär. I suggest you take this time to get to know the others.

She went away to where Uftak and Eldur were now listening to Blödhgarm telling them something. Eragon paid it little attention, instead looked with his mind to Saphira, who was flying with the other dragons following her. Eragon went deep into her consciousness, entering Skulblakas ven.

Now Eragon became unsure of who he was.

Saphira flapped her wings effortlessly as the trees zoomed down under her. She looked at the landscape, admiring the beauty. More than that she wished to see Eragon again.

Saphira twisted around in midair, startling the dragons behind her. Svâraúm growled, and performed an even more complex maneuver. The other dragons performed other moves Saphira had taught them. Saphira chuckled.

When Saphira neared them enough so that Eragon would see her clearly, he withdrew, smiling warmly. The ground shook as the dragons landed, one by one. Saphira; Vindbylür; Svâraúm; Fellebíra and Dy'riell. Saphira released a puff of smoke from her nostrils.

_Hello, little one._ Eragon rushed forth and kissed her snout. Then he mounted her. Only then was he able to look upon the other dragons properly.

'Greetings dragons!' he said. The dragons roared in answer. 'Saphira and I will be off now. We shall train no further today.'

They flew to the Castle doors which Eragon opened with some of his energy. They went then to the throne room. It was there that Eragon dismounted Saphira. The doors of the throne room had no enchantment upon them, and they opened with the pressing of a slab too.

The doors swung inwards and Eragon entered, followed by Saphira. The throne room was a long room with a high ceiling, from which hung three chandeliers. At the far end of the room was a high backed chair. Indeed its back was so high that Eragon could stand upon it and still lean his head on it. Against the side walls were benches, two with each. Between them were round tables with nothing upon them. The walls were lined with the elves' lanterns. The light from them threw the whole room into enlightenment.

The throne was placed upon a tall platform with twelve steps to it. At the end of the platform was a wooden fence on each side of the stairs. Behind the fence were wooden tables with chairs on each side. Behind the throne were large white silk curtains, thrown back to reveal huge maps of Alagaësia and the surrounding islands. Beside the throne, at angles, was a tall mirror on each side.

From the foot of the steps began a white carpet lined with gold embroidery that led to the throne and over it. Eragon walked upon it, and took his place on his throne. Saphira settled herself down near the steps. They sat like this for some time. It was not long before the doors opened once moor and Silvär entered, dressed in an elven tunic. Behind him dragged his great black linen cloak. The cloth of his garments was weaved to masterfully, it looked as though _he_ were the one to sit in the throne instead of Eragon.

Behind Silvär came his silver dragon. Vindbylür was smaller than Saphira, but stockier. He was the kombat type, unlike Saphira, who was more slender.

Eragon stood as Silvär approached. They exchanged the elven greeting, then Silvär took a chair for himself while Vindbylür sat opposite to Saphira.

Then Silvär began recounting everything that has occurred. 'The first place we went to was Ellesméra. There we were greeting by Queen Arya and Fírnen. We stayed there for only a small time, for the egg was, of course, sent to the humans. We did not spend time with the elves much. Then we went to Palancar Valley.' Eragon nodded. Palancar Valley was the closest settlement of humans to Du Weldenvarden.

'There we learnt that King Roran had gone with his family to Ilirea to Queen Nasuada. We exposed the egg to many eager children there, but to no avail. Zathvír did not hatch for any. From there we went to the villages nearby. Slowly we moved towards the heart of the Broddring Kingdom. Gil'ead, Dras Leona, Belatona. We went many places, but, as you know, the egg didn't hatch until we were in Ilirea. In Nasuada's court when the egg began to hobble in Ismira's hands.'

Eragon said. 'I see. You said that you felt something was off, didn't you?'

'Well, there are a couple of reasons I've been feeling this way. There have been strange things happening in Alagaësia. First, an Urgal village was massacred a week after our arrival in Alagaësia. They believed that a rebellion had broken out in the village. But I didn't believe that. It was not likely. The village was part of many built fairly close together in a valley in the in the Spine. Also, the village had no governing party of its own, so a rebellion would really have no point. No, I think it was something else, someone from the outside.'

Eragon frowned. 'You say the villages were built close together, so would it not be hard for an outside army to slip in unnoticed?'

'Perhaps, but there is another thing I'd like to speak of. The village in question was on the slopes of the mountains on one end of the valley, built next to the mouth of a cave that led out of the Spine towards. It opened up somewhere near Teirm. Vindbylür and I went to the site ourselves. We found no weapons among the dead. We would have explored the cave too, but we, of course, had other business to attend to. So the duty was left to a group of dwarven guards from Tarnag. They found a letter, sealed with magic. They said it was centuries old, but I thought it unlikely, because Urgals had dwelt there for long years. And they do not write very often. I convinced Nasuada to let me have the letter and I have brought it to you. I thought you were the one who'd know what it meant.'

He produced a piece of parchment from his belt. 'Here.' Eragon took it. 'Thank you, Silvär,' Eragon said, but more for his trust in him.

He turned his attention to the letter. It looked ordinary enough. He turned it around. The seal was black stamp, from which Eragon sensed powerful magic radiating. He did not know what, but there was something about the magic that had a connexion with Eragon's foreboding. Saphira hissed and sat up.

'This magic…' Eragon said slowly. 'There is something about it that seems… familiar. Like something from a long-forgotten dream. Yet it does not comfort me. This is indeed something great you have brought me, Silvär. Know that I appreciate it greatly.' Silvär bowed his head.

'Another thing I'd like to tell you about it,' the elf said. 'The village was stripped of any provisions or gold stored in it. Everyone was killed. At least three of the men were Kull.'

Eragon felt a chill rise in his spine. 'People, who can use ancient and powerful magic, have attacked an Urgal village in the Spine and taken provisions… This could only mean…'

'Yes. There is a settlement, or an army, of a long-forgotten power in Alagaësia. Evil is brewing in the west, Iet Ebrithil. Can you feel it?'

Eragon nodded, tucking the letter in his belt. 'Yes…' he said slowly. 'I can feel it.'

Silvär gasped and pointed to the mirror on Eragon's right. Eragon turned around. The surface had gone black, and was rippling. Slowly a man's face appeared. He had a long pointed beard and wore purple robes.

'Aha!' he said, and satisfied, stepped back. He was in a hall that Eragon recognized as Nasuada's throne room. Suddenly the queen herself appeared into the mirror.

'Eragon!' she exclaimed delightedly.

'Nasuada, old friend!' Eragon said laughing. 'How long it has been! How are you, tell me!'

'I am very well Eragon, but there is grave news I have to tell you,' she said shortly. Eragon noticed how haggard she looked, dressed in travelling clothes.

'Nasuada, are you going somewhere?'

'Yes, in fact. I am going to Surda to a council to discuss some politics – namely the selection of a new king.'

'New king? Why would Surda need a new king?'

'Eragon… King Orrin is dead.'

Eragon froze, feeling sick. He had never been particularly fond of King Orrin, but his death struck Eragon as impossible. _No…_ He remembered Orrin as energetic and carefree, if a little odd. 'What happened?'

'He was murdered, or as we think assassinated. Orrin was coming back from a conference when somebody struck him from behind using a poisoned dagger. The poison was of a fearful sort. Something our alchemists have never seen before. Or – well actually they have never seen even now. We found no trace of any poison in his body. And he was killed immediately.'

Eragon frowned. 'If he was killed just then, and no poison was found, then what makes you think there _was_ a poison? Don't you think he'd just been killed by the dagger?'

She shook her head. 'That is the main problem. The dagger wasn't what killed him. It struck him in the shoulder, no vital organs did it damage.'

Eragon cursed. 'Why do you think he was killed like that?'

'I don't know. It may be for revenge, or to gain power in his stead, the reasons are endless. But we cannot be sure of anything just yet.'

They didn't speak for much longer after that aside from small, unimportant things. Then Nasuada bade them goodbye and took her leave.

Immediately Silvär spoke. 'That is further confirmation to our guesses. Something strange is at work in Alagaësia, Ebrithil.'

'Yes,' Eragon agreed. 'Something that we know not the nature of.'

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**A/N: So here it is finally the next chapter. i hope you liked it,waiting to hear in the reviews. i apologize for submitting so late, but man have i been busy xD and i had to read some tips on writing as such, but here it is finally. the next chapter will hopefully take lesser time to update.**

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**and here are the answers to the reviews**

**-Elemental Dragon Slayer: Thank you for your continued support :D! (and yes iv finally realized you've got spaces in your name :P )**

**-Ky111: thanks for reviewing! im probably gonna write more about the mysterious man now that we've started into the actual plot.**

**-live laugh play music: thanks and sorry for disappointing you on the rider.**

**-Guest: your welcome :P**

**-Mark Silverwing: First Review: huh thanks for reviewing. i dont think it would really be interesting to hint the plot this early on. i know some writers do that, but its not my style.  
Second Review: i'm no expert on medieval mattresses so thanks :P but im trying to show that he has little time for luxuries. the throne room receives delegations and such so they had to spend more time of that.  
Third Review: im not trying to build any suspense in the third chapter...  
Overall thanks for reviewing, i appreciate it.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Dwelling of the Traitors

A hut rested alone between the foot of the hills and the sea. The storm raged outside, the wind howling loudly as it seldom howled.

From the trees in front of the cabin, at the end of some forest, emerged a man, his ragged clothes soaked in the heavy rain. He grunted, shaking his shoulders irritably to get rid of the droplets that were set there. His hood, though drawn forward, provided little shelter, and his hair was drenched as his outfit. His cloak flapped madly behind him, and it was damaged, cut off from about its middle.

The man wasted no time waiting, and made his way to the seemingly abandoned shack.

The doorway was empty as the man stepped inside. The night was dark, and nothing could be seen.

The man lowered his hood and wiped his face testily, before shaking the stubborn droplets off his attire. Just as the man moved further inside, there came a bright flash of lighting, illuminating the room for a moment. The hut was empty, except for a stump of which the dark figure of a man with broad shoulders and powerful limbs sat slouched, his face set directly towards the newcomer.

The other man said nothing, but looked back at him. Then the man who was sitting spoke. 'You came back so late I began to wonder perhaps you had lost your way,' he said.

'I will come and go as I wish, I do not answer to you,' the first man said coldly.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room through its windows. The rain fell even more strongly, indeed as it had not fallen throughout the storm, and the wind got only louder. The lighting, though lasting a second, threw half of the sitting man's face into enlightenment. His black eye caught the light.

'Rather, it is the other way around,' the newcomer continued. The other man sighed and stood up, making his way to him.

They both stood in the doorway, staring into the storm. It went on violently, without any sign of stopping before the night ended.

'We cannot leave like this,' said the broad-shouldered man.

'No,' the other man agreed. 'We will have to wait until the night ends and the storm passes.'

The man who had previously been in the cabin sighed, feeling relieved that for once his companion had agreed not to push them too much further. His companion spoke again. 'Where is our other friend?'

'He is away. I daresay he will be meeting with us at our destination.'

The half-cloaked man frowned. 'He is not needed there.'

'No, but he will continue northward from there,' the other man said. There was a hint of something unpleasant in his voice. Was it loss, fear, grief or something different completely? Whatever it was, it seemed to please his companion, who chuckled.

'You still are a foolish old fellow, are you not? Such emotions have no place among us.'

'Yes, of course, my Lord.'

The men stood silently for some time then. At length they moved back in, one leading the other.

'We have things to discuss,' said the newcomer, taking a seat on the stump. 'Several things I have noticed during my last trip. They would make our quest more… difficult.'

The other man proved willing to listen to his lord, who spoke about his travel. They discussed many things, and in this fashion the night went by. The sun slowly crept up in the now-clear sky. At her sight the remnants of the storm clouds fled, and the men left their temporary dwelling under her warm eye.

The man who was the lord of the other carried no weapons, while his companion favored a cheaply made bow, and a quiver of featherless arrows, also clumsily made.

They went behind the cabin to look at the foot of some great mountains to their east. The rain-washed ground gave a sense of freshness to the lord. He inhaled the scent of rain deeply. It revived his senses and cleared his breath.

'A good day it is, my lord,' the other man said, hurrying eagerly to his side. The other man said nothing, but went down the slope and away.

The man stared after him for some time. Then, snapping out of his reverie, started after his lord.

They ploughed on tirelessly for hours, moving at a steady pace. The leader saw the tall trees of the mountains go by, their leaves green and live after the rain; stood proudly in their places the trees. The grass was also green, but of a lighter shade and water droplets shone brightly on it. Slowly, almost without the men noticing, the sun climbed high up to its zenith. It was then that the second man spoke up.

'Master,' he said sharply in his rough voice.

Immediately his lord turned around. 'What did you see?'

'There is the presence of an immensely powerful being in our midst.'

The other man replied, 'Stay here.' Though what he said was a simple order, his voice had an air of commanding that not many people could equal.

They stood with their breaths held, scanning expertly among the trees. Several minutes went by, until the broad-shouldered man felt a touch on his arm.

He turned around to see his master. 'It is no reason for worrying,' he said. 'It seems our friend has finally caught up with us.'

They waited for the 'friend' of which they spoke. Time passed, but none of them could feel their patience running out, until a man emerged from the forest.

He had the most intimidating appearance. He was thinner than any living man could be. His skin was pale and looked almost… stretched. His hair was red, and so were his eyes. A cold smile played on his lips. He wore a long black robe, from the waistband of which hung clumsily a sword.

Slowly he made his way towards the other men. 'My Lord!' he said, his slight smile never leaving him for an instant. 'Sherbad!'

The broad-shouldered man, Sherbad, inclined his head, while the lord did nothing.

'I have done,' the red-haired man continued, 'as you asked. The second traitor is not here! I have looked all around for him, but I do not find him.'

The master frowned. 'But surely I had heard he was still around in the north…' he said. 'Perhaps I was wrong.' His voice was deep; deeper than the deepest caves in the land. 'That, however, cannot be helped. We must proceed as we had planned. I will paint their halls red with their blood, however it is folly to do that alone.'

The red haired man and Sherbad gave their agreements in small, curt nods.

The lord then turned around and looked over to the sea. In the distance they could just make out a small speck. Indeed so far away it was that a human, and undoubtedly even an elf, would not be able to see it.

'That is the dwelling of the traitors,' the lord continued.

'Ah, yes!' the red-haired man said. 'And I am beginning to see why you are going there. You will gain their trust first, are you not? Of the people who inhabit that land?'

'A job I would trust to no other man,' the master confirmed. 'And now…'

He fell quiet. Suddenly, the air felt uneasy to Sherbad, which was unusual. He was a very tough man, even if he thought so himself; because there was no small number of people who would agree. But today the felt as if something out of nature was happened. _Ha_! he thought. Yet the feeling gave his an odd sense of hope, like something long lost was returning to him.

Suddenly, a loud voice drummed against their ears. Sherbad froze… _It can't be_… Yet there it was. It was unmistakable. _Thud_, _thud_. He would recognize that sound in his sleep. _Thud_! He looked frantically around for the sound. It was growing louder each time until…

_THUD!_ There came a huge beast over them, its wings spread wide, roaring vigorously.

The lord let out a bark of laughter.

'YES!' he screamed, almost fanatically, his eyes bulging. 'Feel it! Feel the past!'

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**A/N: okay so another chapter done (yay finally) first of all, id like to apologize for my absence, but iv been busy and am not free! another yay and a woohoo (not in the sims context...)!**** so as usual, plz read and review and srry for the length again. without further ado, the answers to the reviews.  
**

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**Ky111: Thanks for the review and its content, i appreciate it greatly xD  
**

**live laugh pay music: thanks**

**Elemental Dragon Slayer: thanks once again. from this chapter onwards im gonna remove the fillery feel.**

**stapet: of course im not offended, i really appreciate and thank you for ur time. hmm ok. thnks a lot for correcting me on the greeting, im just copying and pasting, iv never even read it through, so that was real helpful. the next thing about mortal/immortal, just read the story. about eragon in the sword fight: the thing is, he hasnt killed a man in over fifteen years. anyone hes fought are kids half his age. and he was jsut giving her her first battle, so... and the thing about the combat spelling. thanks a lot but its not a mistake, it's intentional. its a Mortal Kombat reference. thank you for ur time and effort, i am very gratefful :D  
**

**Guest (guest): thanks for the review, but seriously, does nobody play mortal kombat xP?**

**Joda-Eragonsson: thank you for the review :D**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Reunion

Eragon spun around to the left, narrowly missing a jab from Ismira. Ismira growled. Eragon feigned an attack to her left shoulder.

Frantically she raised up her sword arm in a last-minute attempt to dodge the upcoming blow. Eragon changed course in mid-attack, pulling the practice sword back sharply. He stepped close to her, almost bashing her with his shoulder. His foot found her leg and hooked it.

Ismira yelped as she fell to the ground. Eragon moved his arm swiftly, his sword tip coming to a rest near her shoulder.

'Dead,' he said. Ismira growled one more as she rose to her feet.

'Again,' she said, rolling her eyes. Third time was it that day that she had lost a match from Eragon – not that there was anything unusual about that.

As she assumed her fighting stance, Eragon chuckled. 'Stubborn, but you can only go so far with will. Where fails will, you need skill.'

Through their connection, Saphira commented teasingly, _Oh how poetic little one_.

_And quite unintentionally, I assure you_.

Eragon wasted no time and lunged at Ismira again, once more putting her in the defensive.

It was only a few hours after dawn. The sky was clear after the night's rain, which had been heavy. Finally now the clouds had yielded. The sun shone brightly on the sparring grounds. Silvär fought with Blödhgarm, taking a break from the usual training, which his skill was well past by now. Hermandur fought with Uftak, while Eldur watched the elves. Eragon had formally begun Ismira's training now, and now he was teaching her the basics of melee kombat.

Eragon stepped between her feet. She slashed at him. Eragon furrowed his brow; he would not repeat his mistake (the one of the last day, of course). He sidestepped her blow, then pushed her sword away. His sword snatched hers from her hand. Eragon took the opportunity and stepped in, putting his sword on her collarbone.

'Better,' he said firmly. 'Much better.'

'Thanks,' she said, panting.

Eragon frowned. He had come to expect pointless questions from his students, like _why couldn't they defeat him_? Wasn't she going to ask him that?

She laughed when he voiced his question. He looked quizzically at her. 'What?' he asked, feeling as if he had been left out from a some very important point; like a joke.

'I don't expect to defeat you the second time I hold a sword.' Eragon nodded, amazed. She always made Eragon wonder after all how much _had_ she taken after her mother. The maturity she showed never ceased to remind him of Katrina.

Suddenly, Eragon felt Saphira move suddenly to avoid a jet of flame from Svâraúm. He moved a little with her. It looked as if he winced because of something.

'What is it, Uncle?'

Eragon shook his head. 'While here you will refer to me as Master or Ebrithil, Ismira. Nothing else.'

Ismira nodded absentmindedly. 'Uncle!' she spoke suddenly. Eragon shook his head again in disbelief. 'You and Saphira promised to take me on a trip with you!'

Yes, indeed. Eragon had promised her last night before he retired to bed.

'_Uncle,' Ismira said._

'_It's Ebrithil, Ismira,' Eragon said, for what felt like the hundredth time._

'_Yea I meant Ebrithil. When do you think Zathvír will be old enough to ride?'_

'_Hmm. It depends, but it never takes much more than a month.'_

_Ismira grumbled. 'But I really want to fly…'_

_Eragon raised an eyebrow. 'Didn't you fly on your way here from Alagaësia?'_

'_It's different,' she replied. 'I was with Silvär. Vindbylür was flying how _he _told him to. I didn't say anything to him. I want to fly _freely_! Not with an elf I met the day before.'_

'_It's only your first day here, have patience,' Eragon said with a small smile. He paused for a moment. 'Tell you what – you can ride Saphira with me. You can talk openly enough to me, I suppose.'_

_Her face lit up at once. 'When?'_

_Eragon thought for some time. 'Some time this week,' he said finally._

'_I'll hold you to it,' she said, grinning evilly._

'Alright,' Eragon sighed. 'We'll go after the sparring.'

'We will?'

Eragon smiled. 'Aye.'

At that moment, the elves moved towards them. They were locked heavily in kombat, their feet following whichever path the swords set for them. Eragon and Ismira moved warily out of the way.

Blödhgarm, fighting with a small dagger, blocked Silvär's attacks continuously. Concentration was etched upon his face and Silvär's also. The younger elf was trying different maneuvers, slashed, slicing, bashed – any move Eragon could think of. The furry wolf-elf fought him seemingly effortlessly.

Big sparks erupted between their blades as the dulled edges met each other. Blödhgarm pushed Silvär backwards, putting all his weight behind his dagger. The Rider stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. He fell to the ground heavily.

The next move was quick. It was easy for Eragon to follow with his elvish vision, but for a human it could never have been. Blödhgarm threw his dagger with all his might. It swished through the air. For a time it seemed that it would get Silvär on the face, between the eyes maybe; but Eragon knew better. Sure enough, a second later it hit the ground next to the younger elf's head, touching his right ear.

'Dead,' said Blödhgarm. Silvär got to his feet. On his ear was no scratch, for the blades had been dulled. As soon as he was steady, he twisted his hand over his chest and bowed to Blödhgarm.

'It was a good battle, Blödhgarm-elda,' he said.

'Indeed it was,' the other elf replied curtly.

'I agree!' Eragon laughed, stepping in their midst.

'A good fight as can be!' Eldur said roughly, walking over to the panting elves. 'But I must say, Master Blödhgarm was better than you, Silvär!'

Silvär rolled his eyes. 'Eka elrun ono, iet fricai,' he replied sarcastically.

Eragon laughed again. Suddenly he spoke to the dwarf. 'What is the best way for a dragon to avoid multiple projectiles from the ground, Eldur?'

Eldur's mouth fell open. 'Wha – What?'

'If you were paying attention to your dragon,' Eragon pointed out, 'Saphira just mentioned it.'

Eldur slapped his own forehead. 'Oh how stupid of me, mine Master! I realize I was not listening to her! Allow me to make up for my mistake! I will take one hundred rounds of the ground on mine hands!'

Eragon was alarmed. 'No, no, there will be no need for that!' he said hastily.

'Then what will I do?'

'For you to shut up would be quite enough, my friend!' Hermandur said, walking up to them with Uftak following. 'Your loud temperament is giving me a headache.'

Eldur jumped in his position, then turned to him to see Uftak frowning. 'That is not a very good thing to say, Hermandur.' He looked questioningly at Eragon.

'Indeed it is not,' Eragon said. 'As colorful as your opinions might be, I have to ask you, please, to cumber them!' And his tone was stern.

Hermandur faltered. 'Alright, alright…'

'I believe I know the answer to your question, Ebrithil,' the Urgal said.

'Oh?'

He told Eragon exactly what Saphira had told the dragons.

'Very good!' Eragon chuckled. He had noticed that Uftak's connection with his dragon had always been the strongest.

'Well,' Eragon continued to them. 'We will begin with magic after a ten-minute break.'

'I am sorry, Shadeslayer, I cannot join,' Blödhgarm said.

Eragon frowned. 'Why not?'

'I have certain matters to attend to.'

'Thank you for your time, Blödhgarm-elda,' Silvär said, bowing.

'It is nothing, Silvär-finiarel,' the furry elf replied, waving his hand. With that, he took his leave.

Eragon went also, into the forest. To a clearing he was headed, where he'd find a stream to take a drink.

The clearing was not very large. The stream that flowed through it was likewise shallow, and did not make too much noise. The clearing was littered with boulders too heavy to lift. It was on one of them that Eragon took a seat.

Eragon sighed as soon as the cool, clear water entered his throat. He proceeded to washing his face with it as well, reflecting on the turns his life had taken recently.

_My world has turned upside-down_, he though wryly. Why, he could have been a farmer now, living a life as normal as one could imagine. Having his farm, maybe; and perhaps even a family. He'd have nothing to do with any dragons, Riders, elves, or any of the unnatural things he was involved in now, things that had become his life. Maybe… it would have been better that way. But did he ever have a choice? Did he ever have a say in this matter? Born to Dragon Rider Brom and Morzan's Black Hand Selena, an ordinary life was never ordained for him. _Ordained_, he though with a chuckle. _Funny word. It itself reeks of slavery. Slavery at the hands of fate. But who is fate, anyway?_

He sighed again, pushing those thoughts away._ No. It would definitely not be better._ He could hardly imagine a life without Saphira in it… or Arya. No… He did not regret events turning out the way they were. _At least this 'fate' has kept me satisfied. Maybe it's not so bad after all, just… in its own way. But satisfied or not, I am definitely not content with how my life is now._

_Peace, little one. Your life will be long, and many things will unfold before the end. If there will ever be one_, Saphira said soothingly.

_How come you're so wise, anyway?_ he said, making her chuckle.

_No, not wise_, she corrected him. _You need merely to look at events from a different perspective perhaps._

Eragon groaned. More of his dragon's riddles that he eluded his wits. Yet…

_Have I ever told you how glad I am that we are together, my sapphire?_

_No, but you should be!_ she said teasingly.

* * *

'The moisture is _in there_!' Eragon said, a little frustrated. 'You need to get it out.'

Hermandur frowned. 'I still don't get it. There must be something to it.'

Eragon pointed to the ground. 'If you go far enough, you will find moisture. You need to raise its level with your magic.'

Hermandur nodded, finally, at last, understanding the concept.

'If there are no more questions, students, then begin!'

The Urgal, the Dwarf, and the Man turned their attention towards the ground, their faces set with concentration.

Eragon walked to the end of the grounds, where Silvär sat on a stump, watching them interestedly.

'I'm sorry about that, Silvär. I cannot continue with your training until they've mastered this.'

Silvär looked surprised. 'Don't be, Ebrithil. I understand. It does not matter how long it takes, but we have to become stronger, as an order. Elves do have an innate knowledge of magic, but it will take time with the others.'

Eragon nodded.

'Do you wish to sit?' Silvär asked him.

Eragon shook his head. 'I must meet with Ismira.'

'Of course.'

'I'll take my leave now.'

Silvär inclined his head.

Eragon left his for the deeper part of the woods in the hills to the north. It was the same place where Ismira had gone to yesterday, and this day she was there doing the same thing.

Eragon found her sitting on a boulder, concentrating hard. Zathvír hopped around on the ground. As he approached, her eyes snapped open.

'I almost had it!' she exclaimed.

'I expect nothing less,' Eragon said with a chuckle.

'I assume you came to check on my progress?'

Eragon inclined his head.

'Hmm.' She looked thoughtful. 'I can follow the worms and other repulsive creatures around. But–'

'It's alright,' Eragon said gently. 'Don't expect any more just yet.'

She still looked defiant, then sighed and started listening again.

Eragon look a seat on a rock not far from the river. He looked intently at his niece as she worked on her mind. For a moment they sat like that, both silent, one listening, and the other watching her.

Suddenly, Eragon felt another mind probe his forcefully. He gasped silently; this mind could not belong to Ismira. Strong, trained, focused and foreign. Without doubt, it was Blödhgarm.

Eragon silently allowed him entry into his barriers.

_Shadeslayer, a dragon fast approaches._

Eragon's heart rushed, rising almost to his throat.

_Thank you for relaying the information._

He felt the elf withdraw. Swiftly he turned to Ismira. 'We have to stop your training,' he said to her.

'Why?'

'A dragon and Rider have entered the valley, Blödhgarm just informed me.'

She looked curious. 'Oh! Lady Arya?'

Eragon shook his head. 'I do not know.'

Eragon's heart raced. He felt his every breath come ragged. _Who could it be? Could it really be Arya?_ Suddenly, Eragon felt a great pain in his chest. He groaned. He wanted to see her so badly it hurt. _It could only be one of two people, her, or Murtagh._ Whoever it was, Eragon was eager to see them. His only ever love interest, or his brother.

He reached out towards Saphira.

_Saphira–_

_I know. I'm already on my way._

_How is it that you find everything out?_ he asked disbelievingly. Saphira merely hummed in response.

There was a swish in the air. A huge gust of wind swept their hair away. Ismira's hair flew into her face.

With the signature _thud_s of the flapping wings of a dragon, Saphira landed in their midst.

_Hello, Eragon; Roran-daughter-Ismira. _

Ismira curtsied to the sapphire dragonnes. Eragon made his way to Saphira and mounted her. He shifted a few times, making himself comfortable upon her back.

'You'll have to go yourself.'

'Why can't I come with you?' she asked.

'I have to meet the dragon first. You come to the front with the elves and the others.'

'You did make a promise, you know.'

'Ismira, it may be dangerous. Who knows if that 'dragon' is a fanghur or something?'

'I'll never get their fast enough,' she protested.

Eragon considered. 'Alright, I'll do something.'

He shouted out loudly with his mind in all directions. _Vindbylür, come here!_

Less than a minute passed before the silver dragon landed grinning in the clearing.

_Greetings Ebrithilar, Ismira._

'To you as well,' Eragon said. 'Carry Ismira back and Ismira! Be careful with the scales, they can peel your skin.'

Vindbylür dipped his head. Ismira, quickly gathering Zathvír, went forth to him. The silver dragon lowered his body and stuck out a foreleg to let Ismira climb up.

She mounted him with some difficulty, cradling a hatchling in her arms, who Eragon noticed was a little bigger than the day before. Zathvír whimpered as the bigger dragon dug his claws into the ground.

With a _swish_ and a powerful thrust of his wings, Vindbylür took to the air. Saphira followed, taking off with much more elegance. Vindbylür chuckled.

_I'll never learn your grace, Saphira-elda._

Saphira looked smug. _Keep working on it, you may yet._

_Thank you!_

Vindbylür zoomed off towards the sparring fields with the other dragons. Their Riders were there, who would then mount them and continue towards the large empty front of the valley, where Eragon and Saphira would go directly.

_If ever I had the time, I would build a city there like Doru Araeba._

_What would you name it?_

_New Doru Araeba_, Eragon said laughing loudly. _Seriously, a city would do us good, we'd deserve it. _

_I wish that as well, little one._

They followed Vindbylür out of the forest, at the end of which they changed courses. Saphira veered to the right, aiming to front of the castle.

_That dragon must be very close if Blödhgarm was sure what it is_, Saphira commented. _At a distance we can easily be mistaken for a bird._

Eragon said nothing. His neck was stiff, he couldn't even nod. _Did she decide to come and see us? Is it possible?_

_I know not, little one,_ she said gently.

Eragon groaned as Saphira slowed. She dropped a few feet as her momentum gradually lessened. They were above the Castle now.

Within seconds Saphira slowed to such a speed that Eragon did not feel the wind beat him. Slowly she steadied herself. With slow, deliberate thrusts of her wings Saphira landed in front of the door. Sure enough, a dragon approached them. Eragon sucked in a lot of air.

As he was dismounting her, they were joined by the other Riders, dragons and Blödhgarm and his spellcasters.

The shape of the dragon got sharper now. His – for of course it was a he, as the only dragons in Alagaësia besides the ones present were male – shape was bigger than Saphira. Also, he did not resemble Fírnen.

Eragon's guess was confirmed when the dragon's scales caught the sunlight. They glinted red, like rubies in a mine. Eragon watched with wide eyes. His excitement had no end. _They've come back! _Hardly anything could ruin this moment, where reunion with his half-brother was imminent.

Thorn flapped his wings vigorously. He was so close now, that he could be seen clearly, as could be the man on his back. His hair flapped madly behind him, and a wide grin was on his face.

Thorn roared loudly and Saphira, taking in as much air as could fill her lungs, replied in kind, her roar louder and longer than Thorn's. None of the other dragons responded, even Vindbylür, merely dipping their heads.

'Hail Dragon Riders!' Murtagh yelled as Thorn landed slowly. Swiftly he dismounted, making his way towards them.

Eragon rushed forward and embraced him like a brother. Of course they _were_ brothers so…

Murtagh laughed. 'Easy brother let me breathe!'

'Murtagh my brother!' Eragon said delightedly, clapping him on the arm. 'How have you been?'

'Well, Eragon! You look excellent yourself! Looks like these past fifteen years have been kind to you,' he said, eyeing the Castle admiringly.

Eragon laughed. He turned back towards the others.

'Riders and dragons!' he announced. 'This is Murtagh, son of Morzan.' Eragon saw Murtagh shift in annoyance at the title. 'He is one of the Riders, and the oldest and most senior after me.'

Eldur stiffened.

'Greetings!' Murtagh said to them.

'To you as well, Master!' Hermandur said, eagerly bowing to him. No doubt he was excited to see another of his race.

The others greeting him as well, the elves using their traditional greeting; all, save Eldur.

'What is it, Eldur?' Eragon asked. 'What is on your mind?'

Eldur answered the rhetorical question warily. 'Master, do you not know? He killed our king Hrothgar.'

Eragon tried to respond, but was cut across by Murtagh. 'The other dwarves seem to have to problem with me. I should tell you that the reason I came this late, and not in the beginning of the year, when Thorn and I returned from the north, is that we were busy helping the elves sing back their damaged trees, and the dwarves rebuild their cities.'

Eldur stared with wide eyes. 'The other knurlan did not attack you?'

Murtagh shook his head.

'Well, If mine brothers can forgive you, then to can I!' Eldur said, ruffling his hair. 'Welcome to New Vroengard Master Murtagh!'

Murtagh laughed again. 'Thank you, master dwarf!'

Eragon's gaze shifted to Murtagh's cloak. It was torn off from about the middle. He saw his outfit, which was all scratched.

'What happened to you?' he asked, surprised.

Murtagh grimaced. 'We were attacked by three fanghur on the way.'

'Are they still alive?'

'No we dispatched them,' Murtagh sighed.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky when Eragon and Murtagh sat upon a mountain, conversing as they had not for years: as friends. Eragon had finished showing Murtagh around, and Saphira was now giving Thorn a tour of the whole island, along with the other dragons.

'Good to have you hear, brother,' Eragon said.

Murtagh laughed. 'Good to _be_ here.'

'How long will you stay?' Eragon asked. Already he was worrying about when the two would leave.

The view that the height provided was magnificent. A pinkish glow had settled itself on the valley. The Castle looked wonderful, but the armory was barely visible. The sea gleamed yellow, sparkling in the sunset.

'Stay? Eragon, we're here! We're not going to leave!'

Eragon's eyes widened. 'You're here?'

'What? Are we not welcome with you 'Riders',' Murtagh joked.

Eragon chuckled. 'Of course you are.'

'We can divide the training of the others between us as well.'

'That would be a huge weight off my shoulders.' Eragon felt greatly relieved, along with his persistent feeling of happiness.

'Did you hear about Orrin?' Eragon asked him.

'Aye,' he replied. 'From Nasuada. I didn't know him personally, but from what I hear, he was not the best kind of man. Good riddance, I'd say.'

Eragon shook his head. 'I did not like him at all either, but his death was a blow,' Eragon admitted.

'I have a feeling you have not showed me everything, Eragon.'

Eragon fell silent. At length he spoke. 'Yes. There is a library under the Castle. The greatest secrets and workings of our order. Only Blödhgarm's group and Silvär know of it.'

'Will you show me?'

'Why not?'

* * *

Eragon and Murtagh stood in front of a wall in a small side chamber off of the throne room. The stood in front of a cupboard.

'This is the entrance to our library,' Eragon told him.

'You'd wonder what would an empty cupboard be doing in here in this chamber,' his brother said, chuckling. 'How will you open it?'

'It recognizes my energy.'

'A crude method,' Murtagh commented.

'It is rather insecure,' Eragon admitted. 'I intend to change it before long.'

'Who can enter?'

'These doors only recognize mine, Saphira's or Blödhgarm's energy.'

Eragon directed a steady stream of energy to the doors. Just before the energy faded into oblivion, the doors shook. A small rumble came, then the polished wooden doors opened soundlessly.

It revealed a tunnel going very steeply downwards.

'Well, come on,' Eragon said, entering it. Murtagh followed swiftly. As soon as they were both past the threshold, the doors closed behind them, leaving them standing in pitch darkness.

'Brisingr raudhr,' Eragon said. A red orb appeared in front of them, hovering a little over head level.

They followed the path for some time. After several minutes of walking in the gloomy passageway it leveled out, ending in front of two large wooden double doors.

'How can dragons enter?' Murtagh asked him.

'They can't. We have yet to dig a passage large enough for them.'

Eragon fed the doors his energy, which opened. They were not soundless like the last, but creaked like the Castle's. The doors swung inwards, and a huge chamber greeted them. The Riders entered.

It was, by far, the most impressive place on New Vroengard. They stood in a large, circular room. It could fit in a fifty dragons Saphira's size. The shelves that hugged the wall were tall, going up till the very ground above them. The place was built on six levels. There was a huge hole in the floors above them, so that the ceiling was visible. From it bright light entered the library, filling it with light rivaled only by the sun itself. Over half of the selves were full.

Murtagh stared. 'Splendid. It's truly magnificent. Where did you get the books to fill them.'

'Ellesméra. Courtesy of Arya, who picked the books on the Riders, _written_ by Riders, from elven libraries.' He pointed to a long shelf, only a head taller than Eragon, standing at the far end of the room. 'That contains my master Oromis's books and scrolls.'

'Can I read them?' Murtagh asked.

'Feel free.'

* * *

**A/N: heres another chapter people. i feel like after the delay last time, i need to update quickly to make up for it. anyway, why have your guys stopped reviewing :o ? i;m sorry that this chapter was fillery, but the next chapter is solely plot, and also the real, ACTUAL beginning. ponder on the recent events as i answer the reviews.**

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**edit: guys why don't you review? its been almost 24 hours since i updated and i have ONE review (a thanks to Ky111 for that). c'mon ppl.. :(  
**

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**edit: for all of you ppl who've gotten sick of the intro parts, im gonna stop the stretching in the next chapter, where alot happens. bear with me until then xD**

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**Ky111: thank you once more for your continued support :D. yea, the master was a very powerful person (not gonna reveal anything abt him here). some chapters later im gonna pick up the story of sherbad and the shade again.**

**Fang480 (guest): great suggestion about elva, i may end up doing something like that. thanks for reviewing xD  
**

**Elemental Dragon Slayer: thanks for reviewing my every chapter till now xD**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: i have updated the chapter, i hope the edits are good (At least better than the original) tell me what you think down there in the reviews.**

Chapter 7

A Call from Home

'You've really forgotten how to fight, Eragon!' Murtagh said, a great bark of laughter tearing from his lips.

Eragon grumbled. He pushed Murtagh's sword backward. Murtagh spun around, bringing Zar'roc around in a blur. Eragon raised Brisingr upwards, but too late. Zar'roc touched Eragon's neck lightly.

Eragon whistled.

'What?' Murtagh asked.

'I haven't lost a battle in fifteen years,' he said. Murtagh chuckled again.

'Let me bring you back to earth.' He smirked.

Eragon and Murtagh circled each other again, both observing each other carefully. The other Riders formed a circle around them, watching them intently. The elves (except for Silvär) were nowhere to be seen.

Eragon scanned the area around him for anything that may even the odds a little. _I guess I'm a little out of practice_, he decided grimly. With almost a yelp he spotted the stump at the edge of the field. _Of course_!

Murtagh gave him a moment more of peace. Then, without any visible warning, leapt at him, slashing away with Zar'roc.

Eragon raised his sword in anticipation of the blow. The weapons met heavily, making Eragon grimace, determination set into his eyes and seeped into his veins. Murtagh swung his blunted sword around. Eragon sidestepped, evading the blow. Murtagh smirked.

In an instant he closed the distance between them in a flurry of every move a sword could make. Eragon blocked some of them, yet more of them he dodged, leading Murtagh towards the stump with every step.

The distance was still great, and there was seldom any mobility during battle and Eragon could not run towards the stump too fast, for fear of giving away his plan, desperate as it was. Eragon was determined to retain some dignity in front of his students.

He heard Hermandur let out a poorly concealed gasp as he parried a powerful blow from Murtagh. Eragon grinned. He stepped in, surprising Murtagh, then bashed the Red Rider with his shoulder.

Murtagh did not fall, but he still stumbled backward a rather large distance, forcing the Riders to widen their circle. At the distance, the brothers eyed each other, eager to notice the slightest misstep, the slightest opportunity to lunge at the other. This time, Eragon was determined to provide the other none.

Eragon inhaled deeply, straining to remember any advice from any of his masters; Brom, Oromis, Glaedr. Even Vanir's moves he remembered, and Arya's. Lastly, he thought of his previous battles with Murtagh. Suddenly, it clicked.

Feeling confident, Eragon lengthened his stride, moving in the circle in larger steps. In front of him, he saw Murtagh do the same, probably thinking what he was going to try next. Eragon looked carefully at him, but this time looking at his limbs. He searched for any signs that could betray what he was about to do.

He had probably gotten Murtagh agitated by now, which was not what he had been aiming for, but come to think of it, it reeked of glad tidings. As soon as he took a step closer, Murtagh leap at him again. Eragon felt confident, looking at his feet. As soon as Zar'roc got close enough Eragon ducked, and struck Murtagh with Brisingr's pommel. Murtagh chuckled, clearly noticing his brother's return to sanity.

The son of Morzan wasted no time pondering, and lunged at the Lead Rider with renewed vigor. Eragon let out a grumble, meeting every action of Murtagh with countering reaction. Soon, the brothers were locked in kombat as they used to be when they would spar when they used to travel together. The memory tried to stir some type of emotion in Eragon, but he brushed it off. _Oh no you don't_! he spat at… himself.

Left and right Murtagh slashed. Eragon blocked his every move. Then it came Eragon's turn to attack and Murtagh's to defend. Slowly yet steady the brothers moved towards Eragon's goal, the other Riders shifting their places along with them.

They were upon the stump now. Murtagh slashed powerfully. Eragon, his goal set his in mind, met Zar'roc with Brisingr, shooting the former upwards. It did not leave Murtagh's hand, but that was not Eragon's objective. Eragon feigned a jab at Murtagh's gut. Murtagh, smirking, brought Zar'roc down heavily. It was exactly what Eragon had been aiming for.

He jumped to the right side swiftly. Zar'roc met the stump, but did not stop there. The red sword embedded itself into what had once been a tree. After that, there was little Eragon had to do, except put his blade onto the shoulder of a very shocked Murtagh.

They stood there, silently, both panting. It was when Eragon withdrew his sword that Murtagh spoke.

'Excellent! I haven't felt this alive in ages,' he laughed, yanking Zar'roc free of the stump and sheathing it.

Eragon wiped the sweat off his brow. 'Waste of a good stump,' he said carelessly.

'_That_ is what you are concerned about, of all things. You should be happy brother, you just saved you're a–'

He stopped, seeing the youngest man, Hermandur, striding in. 'That was… amazing!' he said, awestruck. 'I haven't witnessed a battle this great in my life.'

'If you had been there in Galbatorix's throne room…' Eragon said dryly, leaving his sentence hanging.

'You would still say that!' Murtagh finished for him pointedly. Eragon shrugged.

'Come to think of it, how did you kill the mad king?' Hermandur asked. 'I bet there was a great battle.'

Eragon hesitated. 'Yes. There was. But now there should be another here as well? Anybody up for it?'

From the half-broken circle, Silvär called to Eragon. 'How about you and I, Ebrithil?'

Eragon grinned, beckoning to him.

Silvär stepped forward, unsheathing his sword. Eragon felt the air become tense again. Murtagh retreated to his place among the others, who were working on remaking the circle, and were doing a good job of it.

Silvär swung his sword in the air. Eragon put up his hand.

'I need to replace my sword,' he said.

The elf shook his head. 'No need, Ebrithil. The sword does not matter, not its material. Only its wielder.'

Eragon inclined his head. 'Of course.'

With that, he rushed forward, aiming at Silvär's shins. The elf anticipated the attack, and blocked it effortlessly.

Eragon was not fazed. He had expected as much. It was good to see his students weren't disappointing him.

He wasted little time, lunging at the other again. Silvär raised his sword just in time. Eragon did not stop, but followed up with a series of blows, one after the other. Left, right, down he slashed. The last blow sent Silvär flying back some meters.

From that distance, they studied each other, even as Eragon and Murtagh had studied each other. Slowly they circled each other, eyes never leaving eyes.

Simultaneously they both sprinted towards each other, swords meeting in a flurry of blows. Each time the dulled edges met, sparks flew between them, but the Riders paid them no mind. The Man and the Elf fought their battle tirelessly, neither gaining the advantage.

As the battle went on, Eragon could not help notice that while Silvär was naturally gifted with talent in swordsmanship, he lacked the experience with made him and Murtagh such formidable enemies. Despite that, it was still long before the battle ended.

The fight took them back to the center of the circle. Silvär aimed a jab towards Eragon's right shoulder. The elder Rider ducked and stepped to the right, countering with a slash to the elf's waist. For a moment, Eragon saw Murtagh and Hermandur locked in kombat, the others' attention divided between the two battles.

Eragon paid dearly for that moment. Silvär managed to land three hits in quick succession. One to Eragon's right arm, just below the shoulder, the second a jab to his stomach, and the last to Eragon's thigh. It was a slash, a powerful one. Eragon's skin did not tear, but the impact affected his bone in such a way that it hindered Eragon's movement.

Silvär wasted no time celebrating this small victory. He rushed forward, slashing again. Eragon deflected his attack with a parry. Silvär stepped back, but not before kicking Eragon's injured leg.

Eragon grunted, falling to one knee. He raised his head to see Silvär running towards him.

Just as he got close Silvär jumped high up, flipping once before landing behind Eragon. Suddenly Eragon felt a jab coming to his back. _If that hit's me_…

Eragon forced himself to move. He rolled to the right, surprising the young elf. Eragon's sword found Silvär's calves, knocking him to the ground. Immediately Eragon stood up, pressing the tip of Brisingr into Silvär's chest.

'Dead,' Eragon said.

'Waíse heill,' Eragon muttered with his hand upon his leg. Then he offered his hand to Silvär.

The elf took it, rising to his feet.

'That was a good fight,' the elf commented.

'Yes it was,' Eragon said, satisfied. 'That was extremely clever of you, exploiting my weakness like that. In a real fight, just that may end up saving your life.'

'Thank you, Ebrithil,' Silvär said, twisting his hand upon his chest and bowing low. Eragon answered by inclining his head.

Then, they turned back towards the others. Hermandur was sitting against a tree, one of the only in the sparring grounds, looking sour. Murtagh was exchanging blows with Uftak, who was fighting very well, Eragon thought.

_Uftak's style_, Eragon observed, _is much different from mine. He relies on heavy blows and powerful swings_.

_Yes_, Saphira said.

_Even though I trained him._

_Hmm. I believe this is something that comes more naturally than by training_.

Murtagh deflected Uftak's blow: a slice aimed to his shoulder. For a moment, it looked as if it would sever his arm, but that was only possible, of course, without the guarding enchantments that dulled the edges.

Eragon saw Murtagh move to the side. Quickly the Red Rider maneuvered his blade to the Urgal's neck, panting.

After the fight, the gathering scattered. Eragon and Murtagh walked to the edge of the forest. They entered the canopy strolling, catching up on what had transpired in the other's absence.

'Well,' Murtagh began. 'We went straight north after the meeting with you two. I had long had a wish to see Palancar Valley, so that's where we stopped first. We got there at dusk, but nobody was there in Carvahall yet.'

'Aye, that's because they didn't leave just then. Roran and Katrina travelled with us to Tronjheim and Ellesméra. But tell me how you found Carvahall.'

Murtagh laughed. 'Empty. The town was razed to the ground by the soldiers.'

Eragon nodded sadly.

'We spent the night there. Then we continued on our journey. We spent many long years there. Then, about… what was it? Four – five years ago? Aye, five years ago, we contacted Arya.'

Eragon narrowed his eyes. 'Why her?'

Murtagh chuckled again. 'Relax brother, no reason besides that she was the only person I knew. Then I began to speak with Roran too.'

'So you know each other now?'

'That we do.'

'But why didn't he say anything?'

'I asked him not to. I still have enemies among the Elves and Dwarves, and, it pains me to say, the Empire too. They'd be more than happy to have my head. I'd rather avoid an ambush, see. We only felt safe it was come out after the Elvish and Dwarvish rulers had forgiven us of our deeds under Galbatorix; and that was some months ago.'

'Have you been in contact with Nasuada?' Eragon said.

Murtagh faltered, red color rising to his cheeks. 'I– yes, I – I mean _we_ have, but only seldom.'

Eragon raised his eyebrows. Then he chuckled. 'Come, brother. We should return.'

Eragon left, followed by Murtagh who, no doubt, was eager for the change of subject.

They found a silver haired elf from Blödhgarm's group awaiting their return.

'Shadeslayer, Murtagh,' the elf said, his lips curling a bit downwards at the last name.

Eragon paid it no mind, and neither did Murtagh, as they exchanged the Elven greeting.

'We have been contacted, Shadeslayer, by the human Queen,' the elf said, deliberately ignoring Murtagh, who was seemingly unfazed.

Eragon thought his behavior strange as he replied. 'Very well, we are on our way.'

Eragon contacted Saphira as the elf left, who was deep in the forest with Ismira and Zathvír, talking.

_Nasuada wishes to speak with us._

_Go on, little one, I will listen through our connection._ Eragon sent her a mental nod.

He looked over to Murtagh.

'Will Thorn be accompanying us?'

Murtagh shook his head.

'I'll call Silvär.'

'Do, but I doubt he will come along, seeing as I am here.'

Eragon looked at him. 'I do not know what was up with that one, but Silvär is not like that.'

'You _know_ all Elves are not like that!' Eragon argued when Murtagh looked unmoved.

'He's here,' Murtagh said shortly.

Eragon turned around to see Silvär flying towards them on Vindbylür's back.

Silvär spoke the Elven greeting first, to which Eragon replied. Then he spoke with Murtagh.

_Greetings, Ebrithilar_, Vindbylür said.

Eragon inclined his head. 'To you as well, Vindbylür-finiarel. Incidentally, I was about to contact you two.'

_Oh_?

'Nasuada requests an audience with me,' Eragon informed them. 'Would you like to accompany?'

Silvär said, 'I would.'

_As for me, I need a long dip in a lake of cold water_, Vindbylür said chuckling.

The trio made their way to the throne room. This time, Silvär opened the doors. As the brothers entered the main hall, Murtagh spoke. 'When will you include me in the spell, Eragon?'

Eragon hesitated. _Should I?_

_Do you trust him?_ his dragon asked.

Eragon bit his lip. _I don't know. I _want_ to trust him, but I cannot forget he was Galbatorix's Rider._

_I suggest you wait, and besides, Nasuada expects you._

_Oh, Saphira. Where would I be without you?_

_In Carvahall?_

'The enchantment is long, it will take time. Do you wish to keep Nasuada waiting?' Eragon asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. He was sure Murtagh got it, but not Silvär. That was the way he'd have it.

'I – no, of course not.'

Eragon snorted.

'What is funny, brother?'

'To see you stutter.' Murtagh's ears turned red. 'Very unlike you.'

They found Blödhgarm waiting in the throne room, sitting on a chair in front of the mirror.

'Your majesty,' Eragon said, looking in it.

'Lord Rider,' Nasuada replied.

Eragon went forth to take his place upon the throne, while the others took chairs similar to Blödhgarm's. Once he sat, he saw Nasuada in full. He was shocked to say the least.

She looked ragged, as if she were a lowly maid. She did not look like a lesser noble, let alone the Queen of the Broddring Kingdom. Her hair was tied behind her head in a bun. The clothes she wore were hastily put on, without any care for decoration. There were bags under her eyes. She looked gaunt. Around her neck was a necklace. A small smile played on her lips.

After Silvär and Murtagh completed their greetings, Eragon spoke. 'What happened to you, Nasuada? You look…'

Nasuada smiled wryly. 'I look restless, don't I?'

Eragon snapped his mouth shut, nodding.

'A lot has happened in these past few days, Eragon.'

'Except for the death of a king, you mean?'

'Yes, Eragon, aside from that.'

'What happened?'

'There was a rebellion on a large scale.'

Eragon's eyes widened in shock. 'In Ilirea?' he asked.

Nasuada shook her head. 'In Kuasta.'

'Was it violent?' Eragon asked, fearing the worst.

The queen shook her head gravely. 'The whole city became a battlefield. As soon as we heard of it, we dispatched a small army.'

'Were you able to subdue it?'

Nasuada looked frightful. 'No, Eragon! That is the problem. Our entire army was annihilated. There wasn't one survivor, not _one_! Not from the city, and not from the army.'

Eragon stiffened. He knew little of Kuasta, but he was aware that his father hailed from that city. Even though he himself was raised in Carvahall, he could not help but feel a tinge of regret aside from the fact that innocent lives were lost.

'Nasuada… When you say nobody–'

'I mean nobody, Eragon. If there was somebody left alive, they evaded us.'

'You did send magicians to scan the city, didn't you?' Eragon pressed. 'How could rebels wipe away an entire Imperial force?'

Nasuada looked regretful. When she spoke, her voice was hollow. 'The remnants of Du Vrangr Gata went there, led by Trianna. They tried to locate spells there, but they found none.'

Eragon frowned. 'How can that be? To destroy an army without magic, or proper training – the people of Kuasta are not soldiers – would be close to impossible.'

'I know Eragon. A dangerous game is being played in Alagaësia. About that, I have a favor to ask of you.'

Eragon nodded.

'I must ask _you_ to come here.'

'Come back? To Alagaësia?'

Nasuada nodded. 'This is something that cannot be ignored, Eragon. I'm sure you understand..'

Eragon's mouth went dry. 'But…' he managed to stutter. 'But… Surely Arya is a better magic user than me, isn't she?'

'Would you rather she went their alone?' Nasuada asked. Eragon was sure he heard a teasing tone in her voice. _No. Tease is the last thing she would do right now._

Eragon shook his head, shocked. 'No! Of course not.'

He looked at her for a moment. 'She didn't _go_ to the site, did she?'

Nasuada shook her head. 'She will not but with you and the other Riders here, even if she does go, at least you can be together.'

Eragon flushed deeply. He knew it was absurd, but he hoped the others didn't notice.

'What... No, I–'

'I meant the Riders, Eragon,' Nasuada said, raising an eyebrow. 'What did you think I was saying?'

'I– Nothing,' he said, dipping his head.

'So what do you think?' she said suddenly, bringing him forcefully out of his reverie.

_What do you think, Saphira._

_As always, Eragon, duty calls. It cannot be denied._

Suddenly, Eragon's heart lit up with the prospect of going back home. To return would mean to see all the people he had left behind once more, visit all the old places, revive forgotten memories. _You are right, my love. We'll do as you say._

'Very well, Nasuada. Expect us in three weeks.'

'Thank you, Eragon. I am very grateful.' And she truly looked it.

* * *

The Riders had gathered in front of the Castle once more. Swords belted on, belongings packed into saddles.

Eragon had already informed Cuaroc and the Eldunaraya, who stayed in a cavern under the library. Umaroth was the only Eldunarí accompanying them beside Glaedr. He was securely in one of the saddle bags along with his cousin the gold dragon.

Four of Blödhgarm's group were staying behind. The ones going to Alagaësia were to arrive by ship, so they had already left.

It was just after dawn. The Riders and dragons awaited Hermandur and Fellebíra, who were late.

'Hermandur probably didn't realize we had to leave today,' Eldur said in his loud voice. Eragon jerked his head irritably. Murtagh was the only one who caught it. He let out a poorly suppressed chuckle.

'He will come, Eldur. Maybe he's busy with something,' Uftak said.

'Ha! Trust a human to arrive on time!' Eldur said. Eragon turned to look at him pointedly. The dwarf looked down, muttering something under his breath.

It was nigh on ten minutes before Hermandur hurried out of the Castle with his dragon at his tail. He tripped at the steps and stumbled.

Eragon muttered a quick word. Hermandur stopped in mid-fall.

Muttering a word of thanks, he made his way to the others.

'We are going somewhere we have not set foot in for fifteen years,' Eragon said to himself.

As one, the Riders mounted their dragons. Eragon fitted his legs in the stirrups. Suddenly he heard Murtagh.

'You will have to sit with Silvär, Ismira,' said the Red Rider.

'Why can't I sit with Uncle Eragon, or you?' she asked. Eragon chuckled.

'We have to check ahead while flying, that is why,' he said.

'Come, Ismira,' Silvär said. 'Am I really that repulsive that you don't wish to sit with me?'

Ismira laughed, and climbed up onto Vindbylür.

Eragon tore his eyes away from them and looked forward. The clouds were gathering to the west towards Alagaësia. _We are going to have to meet that storm._

_And we are going to subdue it_! Saphira roared.

* * *

**A/N: the mighty eragon kingkiller returns to alagaesia :D. always a pleasure to upload another chapter. well, the fillers are over now. ppl, whats up with you lately. why have you stopped reviewing :'((  
**

**i have a favor to ask, could somebody tell me what the female for master is? (im not sure if mistress is okay, it sounds.. well, not fitting, if u know what im sayin :/ ) like what the Riders call saphira.**

* * *

**Ky111: thanks :D  
**

**Mark Silverwing: first review: oh **** i messed up didnt i? well, thanks for pointing that out, this way i know i have to do something about it (ah well , iv been careless :/ )  
second review: yea kinda wanted to give that feeling tho. ok about fighting. hmm i guess eragon hasnt been training with cuaroc at all, and the elves only a little  
**

**third review: hehe thanks a lot xD i hope i'll keep improving and get that flowing feel someday :D**

**once again, thanks for reviewing and pointing out my mistakes, i appreciate it a lot**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: chapter 7 is now edited, read it before this one.**

* * *

Chapter 8

Return

Eragon sat comfortably on Saphira. From that high point, he was able see the valley clearly.

He looked upon New Vroengard as it filed by slowly; his home of fifteen years. Eragon knew he could never have imagined it while still in Alagaësia, and indeed before leaving the island, that he would actually _miss_ the place. Yet there he was, feeling a little strange in his stomach.

The island's trees, valleys and rivers passed by slowly. It had been a little over five minutes since the dragons had taken off with their Riders upon their backs. They flew at a steady pace. Eragon didn't want to rush anything, as he didn't want collapsing in a bed to be the first thing he did in Alagaësia after a decade and a half. Eragon had told Nasuada that they would arrive in_ three_ weeks time, yet there was little to do before leaving, and now that they had set off, no doubt they would reach Ilirea in a few days.

Eragon leaned backwards in his saddle, feeling the wind caress his face. It had been long – _too_ long – since Saphira and he had flown without an uncomfortably tight limit of distance. He had longed to feel that weightless bliss that nothing but flying could bring. There was another feeling while flying that Eragon treasured. He could not explain it, but he had noticed it didn't come until they were a certain height in the sky. Eragon and Saphira had not flown so freely since before Vindbylür hatched; they had not had the opportunity.

Saphira grinning widely, baring her ivory fangs.

_Sometimes I feel like I should be the dragon_, Eragon said.

Saphira snorted._ Do not forget you are the same boy who never wanted to fly. Ever._

Eragon threw his head back and laughed. _You know I am not the same person, Saphira_, he said seriously.

_Oh? Then who are you?_

_Ebrithil Shur'tugal, Lord of Vroengard… The farmer of Carvahall has gone._

_The farmer in Carvahall was my Rider, and so are you. And I was Bjartskular then, and I am Bjartskular now._

_Does that mean I have not changed? Not even a little?_ he insisted.

_Well, maybe a little_, Saphira said delicately, clicking her tongue.

Eragon chuckled again. He inhaled deeply, savoring this moment of freedom and closeness with her.

From behind them, Thorn flew forward, a grinning Murtagh upon his back. The red dragon flapped his wings faster, flying in a circle around Saphira.

'Do you not love it as well,' Murtagh shouted over the sound of the wind, 'when you can fly in the air like this?' He flapped his arms to emphasize his point.

Eragon laughed. 'No need to imitate your dragon, brother, I know what you mean!' Eragon called to him.

Murtagh's grin lessened, but did not fade completely. He turned his attention forward, and slowly Thorn glided backwards to the Riders.

Eragon allowed himself to be absorbed by his thoughts again. He felt a strange feeling in his heart. He had, of course, mentioned in to Saphira. She had said that it was anticipation, nothing more. It was true, Eragon agreed with her. He was feeling excited. In fact, so much was it so that Eragon thought it was more akin to fear, but not in nature. Eragon sighed. He was eager to see Alagaësia again, of that there was no doubt. But he was also a little apprehensive, for which the reason he supposed was that he was unsure of how the land had been in their absence. Would it be the same? Undoubtedly so, but Eragon still felt uneasy. But it was natural, he reassured himself.

The truth was that he did not know how much _he_ had changed, without having anybody to compare himself with. He had felt that feeling; that strange, dark loneliness, and awkward uncertainty of what to do after he return to the Varden from his first visit to Ellesméra. But this time, he feared it would be more. Would Roran still embrace him like a brother? Would Nasuada still act so comfortable around him? Would Arya still open up to him like once upon a time? Try as he might, he could not forget his position now. Ebrithil Shur'tugal; most people in Alagaësia would be too afraid to look him in the eye, little as they knew about the Riders. But there was one thing everybody knew, a thing Eragon could not forget, and that was that the position of Ebrithil Shur'tugal, Master Rider, was a powerful one. He was under nobody in the world. No king nor queen nor any royalty would dare claim lordship over him. As wonderful as that might sound, Eragon had a feeling it was not quite so great.

He heard Saphira hiss, snapping him out of his reverie. He forced himself to look forward. What he saw made him groan.

The clouds in front of them were dark and heavy; the clouds of a thunderstorm.

Eragon looked behind him to see Thorn coming forward again. He felt Murtagh prod his mind, and quickly granted him entrance.

_These rainclouds look intimidating_, he commented with a touch of humor.

Eragon agreed wholeheartedly with him. _Flying under those will not be easy. What do you suggest we do?_

_Hmmm. We cannot _land_, that is for sure. We are above the ocean and there are still many miles between us and the coast._

_Do you think that perhaps there is an island between New Vroengard and Alagaësia_? Thorn suggested.

Eragon though for a moment. _None that I am aware of. There may be some, I do not know. The mist hung low over the ocean during the time of the year that we came here, so I think there might be islands, but I do not know._

_You two came two days ago,_ Saphira said. _Did you not see any islands, or even rocks that we could land on?_

_We did not_, said Murtagh at length._ But we were fighting with three Fanghur at that time, we could easily have missed any._

_Mhm._

Eragon reached out towards the minds of Silvär and Uftak. _Come here for a moment._

The dragons, Vindbylür and Svâraúm, glided forth. Eragon saw that Ismira was not with Silvär, but Eragon was not worried. He had felt her mind behind Eldur on Dy'riell.

'What is it, Ebrithil?' Silvär asked.

'Very soon we will be under that storm,' Eragon said, pointing forward.

'Ah.'

'In case in gets too difficult to maintain flight, I want you and Uftak to head off in different directions, north and south, ahead of us. Scout for any islands that we could land on.'

Silvär and Vindbylür zoomed forward in a nosedive without a word, while Svâraúm grumbled, _It will be done, Master_, before going off in the opposite direction.

Eragon turned his attention to Murtagh.

'While we were at it,' the Red Rider said, 'I thought we might want to look for new Riders.'

Eragon nodded, cursing at his own stupidity. 'I was so wrapped up in nostalgia that I forgot that point,' he said angrily.

'No problem, brother, I brought two eggs along,' Murtagh said, grinning.

Eragon sighed, relieved. 'Good. This way our trip will not be completely useless.'

Murtagh's expression turned serious. 'It may be – as you put in, not _useless_ – anyway.'

Eragon looked at him questioningly.

'Thorn and I have been thinking about it,' he said, scratching his chin. 'We _think_ that…' He waved his hand around, trying to search for a word. '…commotion might be caused by Galbatorix's supporters in the Empire. You know, those who were actually loyal to him.'

Eragon looked forward, thinking. 'I don't think so…' he said slowly. 'His followers were scattered – a precious few they were, anyway – after he died. I don't think they could have gotten together and plotted something right under Nasuada's nose.'

'There is… something else, Eragon,' Murtagh said. Eragon narrowed his eyes, Murtagh was looking troubled.

'What is it?'

'I- Well, there's something Galbatorix said. This one time, when he was done torturing me,' Murtagh said bitterly, grimacing, 'after the Battle of the Burning Plains. I was lying on the floor in his throne room. He thought I was unconscious, and I nearly was, too. But there was this… spell caster who entered upon him. He reported something to him. I couldn't make out what he said, but it seemed to faze him a lot. Galbatorix said something about – I believe the word he spoke was Dhy'ill or some such thing. He spoke of this – Dhy'ill – as if he were something alive – you know, like a man or something. He was calling it a 'shadow.' A shadow that walked and talked. For the first time, I heard him sound worried.

'It may have not been so, of course, I was barely awake at the time, but I'm pretty sure it was. I didn't know it was possible, but Galbatorix actually sounded afraid. You know like there was something about this – 'shadow' person that unsettled him. But at the same time, he sounded _hopeful _too. I don't know how to explain it, I–'

'No need,' Eragon said. 'I understand.' Murtagh fell silent, looking relieved. Of course, Eragon did not actually understand it any better than Murtagh did, but to save him the trouble, he said he did.

'It sounded like he _knew_ this Dhy'ill,' Murtagh continued, suddenly more confident, as he didn't have to explain something he had no idea of. 'I think the Dhy'ill was either very skilled in magic, or swordsmanship or–'

'Or both,' Eragon finished for him.

'Aye. Or both. We think this 'shadow' might be out and about. I mean – you fought Galbatorix, you know how powerful he was! How powerful do you have to be to scare a man like that?'

'Hmm. I don't know. Maybe he wasn't afraid for his own safety. Maybe he was afraid for something else.'

'Like what?' Murtagh snapped.

'I don't know. It just… doesn't seem likely.'

'That a man like Galbatorix could be so easily afraid?'

'Exactly.'

Eragon grumbled, and turned forward. The clouds loomed dangerously ahead of them. It was still far away under them, so Eragon could not make out if a storm raged there or not.

Some time later, Uftak and Svâraúm returned from the northern direction.

'We did not find anything, Ebrithil,' Uftak said sadly. 'Forgive us.'

'If there was nothing, you could not have found anything. It is nothing, you did your best.'

'Thank you, Master,' the Urgal said before his dragon flew backwards to rejoin the others.

Eragon shifted to become comfortable in the saddle. He leaned forward, resting flat upon Saphira's neck. Suddenly he hugged her. The sapphire dragon hummed.

They moved on without change for a long time then. Eragon looked at the scene around him. If they did not have the threat of a coming storm, the place would have looked quite beautiful. They flew above the sea. The waters caught the light of the sun and shone brilliantly, dazzling the Rider's eyes. The wind created crashing waves the size of a dragon on the surface. The water was a deep blue, like Saphira's scales, but, of course, not that beautiful. The wind moaned in their ears, but Eragon paid it little mind. Louder than even the wind, if it was possible, were the occasional waves that swished, and met with the water with bone-breaking impact.

Eragon's attention was stolen, then, by Silvär and Vindbylür, who were flying towards the group. The silver dragon's scales shone in the sun, but they shone much more brightly than was normal.

'There is an island-cavern not five miles from here,' he shouted. As they drew nearer, Eragon saw that Silvär's hair was wet, as was his outfit. It were not, he realized, Vindbylür's scaled that glistened to dazzlingly, but the droplets of water upon them.

'Is it raining under the clouds?' Eragon asked.

Silvär grimaced. 'Worse; it's a thunderstorm, and a great one at that. I doubt any but Ebrithil Saphira could fly under it.'

Eragon groaned, but it was drowned by a low growl from Thorn.

_Do you think that is too much for even _me_, hatchling_? the dragon roared, snapping his jaws.

Silvär started. 'I did not mean that, Ebrithil, I am merely… unfamiliar with your capability as a flier.'

Suddenly, Murtagh laughed. 'He's joking, Silvär. Do not worry.'

The elf grinned.

'He most certainly is,' Eragon agreed, laughing. 'I do not doubt that no dragon in the world could compare with Saphira's flying abilities.'

_Thank you, little one. You are right, of course._

_As much as I hate to admit it, flying is something at which she's better than me_, Thorn admitted grudgingly.

Silvär grinned widely, and fell into place behind them, chuckling.

They flew for some hours still. The sun was in its zenith when they crossed the threshold of the storm.

Eragon knew immediately that Silvär had been right. The raindrops crashed upon them like arrows. Eragon grumbled as the sharp water drops met with his skin. They indeed felt like arrows, or crossbow bolts. The Ebrithil Shur'tugal felt memories flowing to the front of his mind; memories of his days as Nasuada's vassal. He remembered fighting Imperial soldiers and Urgals. Suddenly, Eragon's eyes widened greatly as he realized something: _he missed being in battle_! He was sure he did not miss taking lives, instead he missed the fervor, the teamwork, the excitement and the raw feeling of life only war could bring. Eragon felt guilty for wishing for war, but he was saved the trouble as Hermandur and Fellebíra flew forward.

_I cannot go on like this, Ebrithilar! _the yellow dragoness hissed.

_There is an island not far from here, _Saphira said soothingly.

_Vindbylür showed it to me. The opening is in the _wall_, Mistress! We cannot land!_

Eragon felt the young dragon sharing an image with them. It was an island a quarter the size of Eragon's throne room, covered totally in a high cavern. There was a hole in the size wide enough for one dragon to fly in, but the roof of the cave was completely covered. Next to the mouth of the cave were three tall trees with a huge canopy.

_No matter, young one. All you have to do is fly in, then landing should not be a problem._

Fellebíra whimpered, but Eragon felt a rush of gratitude from her towards Saphira.

_Now go and tell the others about it._

_Yes, Ebrithil._

* * *

Saphira was the first to fly into the cavern. As she neared the mouth of the cave, she tucked her wings close to her body and leaned forward. Eragon leaned forward to avoid colliding with the top of the opening. He privately believed it would not be pretty if his head were to smash into a wall. Then it would begin to bleed. Perhaps it would also leave his shoulders and he would be forced to run around without a head. No, he'd definitely stay the way he was.

As soon as they passed into the cave, Saphira flapped her wings to steady herself. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto the ground.

Eragon admired the cavern as he dismounted. _If I didn't know better, I'd think this was home to a dragon family_, he commented.

Saphira folded her wings. _Yes, little one. The cave does look cozy. But it's too simple for a dragon._

_Of course,_ he said sarcastically. _I should have known better._

_I agree._

A huge gust of wind announced the entrance of Murtagh and Thorn. The red dragon entered almost as effortlessly as Saphira, but not quite as gracefully.

Murtagh jumped down from his saddle on Thorn. His knees buckled a little, but he steadied himself. He swept his gaze around once.

'It's a good place to rest,' he said.

'Aye, that is it,' Eragon agreed.

'It's probably going to be home for some time. We might as well get comfortable,' his brother said carelessly.

Eragon was just about to give a suggestion about lighting a fire when another Vindbylür entered. He flew in at full speed, not slowing himself even a little. He summersaulted a few times before landing with a sheepish grin on his face.

Eragon looked at his Rider and started. A chuckle escaped his lips. 'You look like you were run over by a dragon,' said Eragon, jerking his head at his hair.

'No, I was not,' said Silvär grimly. 'Though, it might have been better if I had. That way at least I wouldn't have to take part in all of my fool of a dragon's stunts.'

The sound of rocks scraping against each other came from the silver dragon's throat. The humans also laughed along with the dragon. Silvär shook his head disbelievingly.

Svâraúm and Uftak were next, followed by Hermandur and Fellebíra. Last of all came the dwarf, Eldur, and Dy'riell his dragon.

The dragons set themselves next to the circular wall and sat down, their Riders leaning against them. Ismira sat next to Eragon against Saphira, Zathvír hobbling on the ground in front her. On her face was a smile almost motherly. Eragon grinned a little.

Eldur shouted from the far side of the cave. Perhaps his voice was a little louder than was necessary, but the many bodies in the cave spared them from echoes.

'Can we light a fire, Master?' he called.

'We do not have anything to burn,' said Murtagh. The dwarf sank back into his gloom, a blank expression of his face that betrayed that he was speaking with his dragon.

_How long do you think such a storm will continue?_ Eragon asked Saphira.

_It shows to signs of stopping. Glaedr told me thunderstorms such as this one may take up to two days._

_Great, that is exactly what we need, more time in this pit_, he spat.

_It's okay, little one. The cave is not so bad._

_When we were packing, we didn't foresee this. I packed food what I thought we would need for the journey. It will likely run out long before we reach Ilirea._

_It is no problem, we will eat sparingly. We dragon's can fish in the ocean._

_No, you can't,_ he said almost snappishly._ There are Nïdhwal there._

_Nothing a thunder of dragons couldn't take on._

Eragon grumbled, a little relieved but still unwilling to be shaken out of his bad mood, which was sudden in itself.

Eragon remembered something he wanted to say to Ismira. He sighed, and called her.

'Ismira, there is something I wish to speak to you of,' he said.

'What is it?'

'Ismira, it isn't safe to jump from one dragon to another.'

Ismira hesitated. 'I - I'm sorry, Uncle.'

'It is not her fault, Ebrithil,' Silvär spoke up suddenly. 'I thought that is was less safe for her to accompany us into the storm. I would not have let her fall.'

'Of course, I do not doubt it. I was merely worried.'

Eragon sighed and shifted against Saphira. He looked outside through the mouth of the cave. It was only about noon, but outside there was no light. Indeed, the clouds transformed the say into the night.

Eragon felt a chill creep up in his body. He realized how cold it was, and come night it would only get colder. He was sitting against Saphira. Her body provided him heat from the fire inside her, and his back was quite comfortable, but from the front he was frozen.

His gaze fell to the trees outside. The canopy their leaves provided was thick, filtering the rain and some of the wind that entered the cavern. The branches under them, he slowly realized, would be dry.

'Of course!' he said. Murtagh looked at him, surprised. No doubt, he thought that his brother had most certainly gone mad.

'Of course what?' he asked impatiently. Eragon shook his head.

'We can take wood from those trees. They'd be dry under those leaves!'

'Mhm. I guess so,' said Murtagh looking, unimpressed.

So they cut the branches with magic and piled them together in the center of the cave. Sure enough, they were mostly free from moisture, and their bark would prove easy to burn. Setting them close together, Eragon murmured, 'Brisingr.'

A spark appeared amidst the wood. Within a second, a great fire roared alive. The bark crackled under the flames. The fire quickly spread over all of the firewood, consuming as much of it as it could to burn. That only made it burn brighter.

Satisfied, Eragon sat back against his Saphira, watching the fire burn merrily. He spread his hands in front of it, savoring the warmth.

Hermandur, who had dozed off, stirred, turning in his sleep to face the fire. Eldur inhaled deeply and Uftak moved closer to the fire, as did Ismira. Only Silvär paid it no mind, chatting away as he was with Eragon and Murtagh.

'It's going to be a long was still,' Murtagh was saying. 'We are only halfway to the coast now.'

'What about the spellcasters?' Silvär said. 'It would be difficult to sail in this weather, would in not?'

'I am not worried,' said Eragon. 'They are some of the best spellcasters among the elves. Maintaining sail would be little effort for them. I would not be surprised if they got there before us.'

'Do you think, if it were just you and Murtagh, that you could fly in this weather?' Silvär inquired.

Eragon was silent for a moment. 'Certainly, Saphira and Thorn _could_, but I do not doubt it would be very difficult. No, even if we were alone, we would probably wait for it to stop.'

Silvär leaned back, satisfied with the answer. For a long time then none of them spoke, enjoying the silence and the rhythmic crackle of the fire that graced it.

Eragon retrieved his waterskin from Saphira's saddle bags. He felt the water run down his throat; it was a wonderful feeling.

Refreshed, he replaced the waterskin and sat back in his previous position.

'It's a funny feeling, isn't it, Ebrithil?' said Silvär. Eragon turned to him, puzzled.

'What?'

'It's just… it feels good to return after such a long time, don't you think?'

'Aye… It does.'

'You are right,' Murtagh agreed.

Eragon's mouth felt open incredulously. '_You came two days ago_!'

Murtagh grinned. 'Yes, but we have been away longer than you.'

'Only a month or two. And besides, you have been in regular contact with them,' argued Eragon.

'No, not regular.'

'That doesn't change anything,' Eragon retorted stubbornly.

'It doesn't?' Murtagh laughed. 'I haven't spoken openly with anybody but Thorn for fifteen years, brother. I do think you fared better.'

Eragon rolled his eyes. 'Hardly.' Murtagh's grin only widened.

* * *

The night came without the storm showing any signs of relenting. The day passed with the Riders taking turn to spar with each other. They ate only one meal, as Eragon was starting to believe that the storm would take a little longer than they had expected.

They slept in the cave that night, with the storm raging outside. Eragon took the first watch. He sat at the mouth of the cave, peering out into the darkness. The waves crashed into the walls of the cave with such impact that a man could be crushed between them. The raindrops fell violently, more so on the turbulent surface of the ocean than the island.

Eragon absently twisted a twig in his hand, his mind elsewhere; namely, in Ellesméra, or more specifically, Tialdarí Hall, where Arya would be asleep right now. A lump rose in his throat as he remembered the moment of understanding they shared while their dragons mated. It was a small thing, but to Eragon it meant more than anything the world could offer. That sharing of true names, the way she had held his hand while he struggled to retain his composure and she wept openly…

Eragon sighed, pushing those thoughts aside. It was a beautiful memory, yet it did little more than hurt him at that moment. But he also found comfort, knowing that if was indeed not the last time they had met.

He loved her. He loved her so much it hurt, like a constant, dull ache in his heart. She had brushed off his affections as nothing more than childish infatuation, but he knew better. It was more than that. Much more. What he felt for her he could not put into words. Every moment, she was on his mind, occupying some small part of his thoughts. He was thinking about her always, wishing that she was safe, when he knew it and when he did not. He had not totally forgotten what she had said to him, and he wondered what she had meant – no, what she had _felt_ as she spoke with him, for the meaning was quite clear.

_He said, 'Arya, what is to become of us?'_

_She hesitated, but he could see that his meaning was clear to her. Choosing her words with care, she said, 'I don't know… Once, as you know, I would have said, 'nothing,' but… Again, you are still young, and humans often change their minds. In ten years, or even five, you may no longer feel as you now do.'_

But she was wrong, _very_ _much so_. His feelings had not changed in ten years. If anything, they had only grown stronger. Even fifteen years later, it was not true. What was more, he had not seen her in all that time, but still he did not deter.

'_My feelings won't change,' he said with utter certainty._

_She searched his face for a long, tense moment. Then he saw a change in her eyes, and she said, 'If they don't, then… perhaps in time…'_

That, above all else, was what lingered on his mind. 'Perhaps in time…' He could see some hope in that statement. Perhaps they might, _might_, be… Someday…

He stood up. _No use brooding over such things right now_. He walked over to where Uftak was asleep under Svâraúm's wing.

The fire, he noticed, had burned low. Its end was still far from sight, but Eragon dismissed that thought. He did not need to worry about that, instead he would leave that to the Urgal.

Eragon woke him with a prod at his consciousness. 'It's your watch,' he whispered. The Urgal nodded, as came out from under the black dragon's wing.

Keeping watch was a foolish idea, Murtagh had said. But Eragon thought that they should take no risks, even if there was a storm raging outside, or if the times were of peace. Eragon was sure no assassin would care that seven dragons were inside the cave. But then again, he wanted to take no chances.

Eragon made his way to Saphira, taking care not to wake the others. As he approached her, the dragoness stirred, eventually waking to see her Rider striding over to her. Eragon lay down under her wing, not bothering to take out his bed roll. The last thought that crossed his mind was the face of a raven haired, emerald eyed, pointy eared lady. Eragon was too tired to make out who she was before he slipped into his waking dreams, but she did not leave his mind all through the night.

They met the dawn with great vigor, for the storm had ended, and the clouds had finally given way to the sun. She shone brightly upon the ocean, which looked calm now. The air had a stillness to it, but felt fresh. A salty smell hung in the air, but Eragon did not mind. In fact, he enjoyed the smell, for he hand longed to be out in the open again.

Eragon shifted his Saphira's saddle, inhaling deeply. The dragons flew low, Saphira and Thorn even lower than the others. Eragon leaned down from Saphira and touched the water, wincing at his fingers met its icy cold. They had been flying for hours, and their destination was closer than ever.

Saphira and Thorn flew besides each other. Next came Vindbylür, then Fellebíra, Dy'riell and Svâraúm was in the rear.

Murtagh suddenly spoke up, pointing forward. 'There!'

Eragon jumped in his saddle, startled by what he saw. Murtagh was right. In the distance Eragon could just make out the outline of trees. He took a deep breath and settled in the saddle. A small smile flashed across his face. They had reached the coast of Alagaësia.

* * *

**A/N: another chapter done, and this is one i can actually be proud of. i think it was a little weak towards the end but ah well :/ . i know its been long, longer than before, but i had to edit the last chapter, which took me as long as writing a _new_ chapter, so... but i apologize for the delay. oh yea, another thing id like to mention. actually, i want to thank you guys for the reviews. there i was, complaining on not getting reviews, but you guys made the last chapter my most reviews yet. so a big thanks to all readers and reviewers. read on, now im going to answer the latter.**

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**Aqua Rules: thanks, and srry for the fillery element, its gone now :D **

**Hoytti: thanks, im gonna gather my courage and use the word :/**

**Daedricdragon: thank you!**

**Ky111: thanks for correcting me, i made the edits. hoping to hear more xD**

**Mahavia: First Review: thanks a lot! im glad the intervals are not too long, i was hoping to get reassured about that (xD) thanks abt the writing style, and i was unaware abt the brackets thing, im not going to use them again. and about chapter 5, i thank u as well, i tried my best to keep that 'mystery' element just to show our villains are different from the others.  
Second Review: Yes, it was forced :( and ur right abt me wanting to get it through quickly. i guess updating fast is not very important, is it? i thought it was, but i wont repeat that. i edited it quite a bit so u might wanna check that out.  
So, thanks for reviewing and pointing out my mistakes, it helps a lot.**

**stapet: it was foolish to do that, i realize :/ nasuada being in control of the world, basically lol. iv edited the chapter now, removing all those things.**

**Brisingr5508: thanks for the suggestion, ill make them do that, it sounds cool xP**

**Francine94: thanks :D eragon will meet them next chapter or the one after that (im probably gonna make the next chapter Arya POV, who is still in ellesmera)**


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